


About Face

by holyhalliwells, pastagoose



Category: Charmed (TV 1998)
Genre: Gen, P3, Phoebe Halliwell - Freeform, Piper Halliwell - Freeform, The Power of Three (Charmed 1998), charmed 1998, prue halliwell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhalliwells/pseuds/holyhalliwells, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastagoose/pseuds/pastagoose
Summary: October 1998. Phoebe comes home from a year in New York City to find that nothing has changed. Prue has the same resentment towards her and Piper's still as reserved as before. Phoebe seems to be the only one with a different outlook on life. This series of scenes follow their reunion and the ups and downs that come with it.
Relationships: Phoebe Halliwell & Piper Halliwell & Prue Halliwell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. A Face to Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> Blessed be! This is something I've had written for a little while. It's going to focus on Prue, Piper, and Phoebe, and their relationships with each other. It's set roughly a year after Grams dies and Phoebe has just come home after a year of living in New York City. As of right now, nothing is known about them being witches.

Phoebe's leg bounced as she looked around the kitchen. Everything had changed, yet everything was the same. The shade of the yellow on the walls was the exact same, but the fruit in the bowl had changed, to-do lists on the fridge had changed, and the tea towels had changed. She studied Piper's meek movements as she gently poured coffee into a cup. Phoebe knew that Piper hadn't changed. Not one bit. Her hair was the same; brown, to her shoulders, poofy bangs that needed washing every morning. She still spoke to herself as she worked in the kitchen. Phoebe smiled softly at the thought of her. It was comforting to know that even though everything had changed, something remained constant.

"Here you are," Piper said, placing a cup in front of Phoebe.

"Can you pass me the sugar?"

Piper's eyebrows furrowed as she passed over the bag of sugar and a spoon.

"I didn't know you took sugar. Is that new?"

Phoebe nodded and smiled as she scooped sugar into her cup. Piper's eyes widened as she watched a few spoons fall in. Phoebe didn't seem to mind. She finally took a sip and sighed in relief.

"Home coffee just tastes different, man."

"Tastes better," Piper said, rinsing off the spoon. She closed the sugar bag and neatly placed it on the shelf.

"You're not having anything?"

"It's a little late for me."

Piper sat down across from Phoebe at the counter. She could see the highlights in her hair, her shimmery eyeshadow, her tan. She looked different but good different. She looked pretty, Piper thought. But Phoebe was always pretty.

"So, are you seeing anyone new?" Phoebe asked.

"Not since I called you last week. Just Jeremy." Piper looked down at her hands.

"Not going well?"

"Oh, it is."

"Okay, so..." Phoebe began, eyebrows raised. Her hands hugged her cup. "Tell me about him. I don't think I ever got to meet him. When did you meet? What, a year ago? You've also not told me a single thing about him."

"I don't know, he's tall, he...likes my cooking-"

"Is the sex good?"

Piper's face scrunched up.

"Not there yet?"

"No, we are. We've done it. It's fine."

Phoebe shook her head and smiled. Sure enough, Piper was the exact same person she left a year ago.

"So everything you told me on the phone last week...you're saying nothing's changed? Like, at all?"

"No," Piper said sharply. She shrugged and folded her arms slowly.

"But it's been a week-"

"A week's not a very long time."

"Okay," Phoebe said, shaking her head once more. "Want an update on Jake?"

"Jake that you met last week?"

"Yes. Okay, well, I kinda sorta teased that I was moving back here, and he didn't like that, so I kinda apologized with sex-"

"Phoebe," Piper said. She pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows.

"No, oh, Piper, it was so good. We were so good. Just, just all of it. And we did it in his apartment, you know the one I was telling you about on the ninth floor with the view? It was so hot and-"

"You met him last week?" Piper played with her necklace.

"Yes, Pipe, it's the same Jake," Phoebe said quickly, eager to get to the details. "Have you ever been having sex and, like, he-"

"Phoebe, no, not really. You're talking to the wrong sister about this."

"Well, it's not like Prue wants to hear about it. Where is she, anyway?"

"Out. On a date. Will be back soon."

"You sound nervous."

"She doesn't know you're here."

Piper's face scrunched up once more and she looked down. Phoebe rolled her eyes and pushed her cup away.

"Piper, you didn't tell her I was coming back?"

"N-no, why would I?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm her _sister_? And yours? And the three of us happen to live here?"

Piper put her face in her hands and sighed.

"I just didn't want to fight with her. I don't know if you've even talked to her, and I didn't want to start a fight-"

"You know she's gonna come home and see my bags and throw a fit. And it won't be towards you."

"I want everyone to be here without the fighting, you know? Can't we have one night without everyone hating each other?"

Phoebe sighed and pulled her coffee cup to her mouth.

"Nobody hates each other. Prue doesn't like my life choices, and I don't care about hers."

Piper cracked a small smile and looked away. She could feel the anxiety kicking in as she anticipated Prue's arrival. Phoebe drank her coffee and retained a smile.

"See, you should've come to New York with me," Phoebe said, shaking her head as she thought of all the nights where she didn't sleep. "You should've packed up all your little dresses and heels and come out and lived with me. We could've been roommates. You could've worked in a kitchen and became a chef-"

"But I don't want that," Piper said, "I'm perfectly happy here. Besides, my favourite kitchen is this one."

"No, but Piper, you don't understand. If you came with me when I asked you to, we wouldn't even be here right now. We'd be at some actor's party in a crappy apartment in Brownsville, maybe passed out drunk or something, laying next to guys who don't even know our names. And-and I'd be a big author or something, you know? And you'd be a chef, like a _real_ chef in a New York kitchen."

Phoebe's eyes were bright and wide as she pictured all of her hopes and dreams. It was evident that New York was her city; her playground.

"I don't know," Piper said, "I'm really happy here. I have a good life here."

"But it could've been great out there."

"No, I like my life here."

"But you've never even left here. How would you know? You know, Piper, I love you, but you've never done anything out of your comfort zone. Don't you wanna know who you are?"

Piper shook her head at the thought of New York City. Something about it didn't appeal to her. She could never pinpoint what.

"...I'm out of my comfort zone right now," she muttered, looking towards the door.

"You're-you're...no, Piper, you've never lived anywhere but here. You've cooked all of your meals, worn different clothes each day, the same old clothes. You haven't lived. You haven't stumbled home at four a.m. drunk, hit on the doorman, and woke up on the bathroom floor. You haven't gone out for a burger at two a.m. just because you felt hungry. You just...you haven't been spontaneous and fun and-"

"But Phoebe, I don't need to do all of that to know I don't like it. And I'm glad you enjoyed yourself in New York, I am, but it's your place. It isn't mine."

Phoebe sighed and studied Piper's face. She looked hurt. And Phoebe never meant to hurt her. It was just that Piper never did anything. She was always at home, always knitting, or cooking, or reading. Never partying, meeting boys, making memories. It was as though she became an adult the minute she turned 13 and she never looked back.

"I just wish you did more with yourself, you know? I wanna see you get out there, get so drunk you can't see, make all the memories you can-"

"Phoebe, I appreciate it, but-"

The front door opened loudly. Piper's eyes widened and she shot off of her chair, practically throwing herself to her feet.

"Piper, I'm home!"

"Uh, hi, just in the kitchen!"

Phoebe stared at Piper, watching as she paced for a few moments, tugging on her earlobe. The sound of high heels clicked, inching closer and closer to the kitchen.

"Whose bags are those? Is Jeremy-"

Phoebe locked eyes with her sister. Prue stood in the doorway in a short navy dress and heels. Her purse hung off of her shoulder. Her eyes shifted to Piper, who was leaning against the sink.

"Why is _she_ here?"

Phoebe looked back and forth between her sisters. It was a familiar sight to see them talking over her; fighting over her, and not even in the way she was used to. Piper swallowed thickly.

"I meant to tell you-"

She began to turn pale.

"Yeah, just a little forgetful, are we?" Prue snapped, "How long have you known?"

"I-"

"Not that long," Phoebe interjected, "I kinda just got here. Surprise! She was just as surprised as you are."

"That's not true. You two talk."

"Prue, please, just leave it. Can we talk about this tomorrow? I can make breakfast and-"

"You two can talk about this tomorrow," Prue said, "I might just go and stay with Roger."

"No, Prue, don't do that," Piper said, shaking her head.

"She's gonna make us breakfast, Prue, can't you just stay here?"

Prue looked at Piper, who was gently rocking herself back and forth. Her eyes were misty; it was evident that she was disturbed.

"Fine. For Piper. But we're all going to talk tomorrow. All of us."

She glared at Phoebe and spun around on her heel before leaving the kitchen.

"Goodnight," Piper mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose to stop her tears from falling.

Phoebe moved beside Piper and rubbed her back.

"I didn't know you still got upset," she said softly, swaying back and forth with her.

"Still anxious as ever," Piper said, stifling a laugh, "I just kinda thought we'd all get along."

"Sweetie, you know that's not how Prue and I work."

"I know, I know. Right now I just need a glass of water."

Phoebe pulled a glass from the cabinet and held it under the sink.

"Prue and I have fought like this our whole lives-"

"I just don't like fighting, you know? Between Mom and Dad and...you know, I just-"

Phoebe passed the glass to Piper and watched as she slowly drank the water. Piper closed her eyes as she savoured the relief that washed over her.

"We should go to bed," Phoebe suggested, "I know you hate going to bed angry, but-"

"I'm not angry, just...tired of fighting. That's all."

"Yeah."


	2. Strange Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe struggles with her emotions as she moves back into the manor. Everything has changed, yet everything is the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two! I enjoyed how this one came out. If you enjoy it, please let me know!

Piper lightly dusted the mirror in Phoebe’s bedroom, paying close attention to each of the intricate grooves of the frame. The room hadn’t been touched in a year. 

“You know I can do that, don’t you?” Phoebe called from the closet.

“I know, but you should sort out your clothes. There’s gotta be like five boxes there.”

“Try eight,” responded Phoebe, springing up from a pile of crop tops.

“ _Eight_? I didn’t realize-”

Phoebe laughed softly to herself as she held up a small top with a graphic on the chest.

“I’d give you ten bucks to wear this.”

Piper’s eyes widened and she pursed her lips.

“Not even a million bucks would get me to wear that. Don’t you people get cold in half a shirt?”

“Don’t you get hot in turtlenecks?”

“I see,” Piper said, “Those cold New York nights didn’t teach you much, huh?”

Phoebe shook her head and dropped the shirt. She pushed aside some romance novels and sat on her bed. She looked around her bedroom.

“It’s crazy how much a room can feel like yours and then it can feel like a stranger’s.”

“I didn’t mean to store my books in here,” Piper said, “I didn’t mean for it to make you feel replaceable-”

“N-no, it’s not that. It’s just...it feels so different, you know? Like, where _is_ home?”

Piper smiled and stood at the foot of the bed.

“Not in that apartment you lived in,” she said.

“You don’t get it, Piper, I’m able to feel comfortable anywhere. I don’t worry so much about the food I’m eating or the bed I’m sleeping in, or-or even _who_ I’m sleeping with.” She looked around the room at the now empty walls. “But coming back here feels so weird. You haven’t changed one bit, and the manor looks the same. Nothing’s changed but everything’s changed.”

Piper sat beside Phoebe and fiddled with the duster. The floor was covered in Phoebe’s old clothes that Piper had boxed up in sadness the morning after she took off for New York. She remembered neatly folding all of her shirts and storing them, not knowing when they’d see the light again. The boxes were stacked neatly in the closet, and slowly, a bunch of Piper’s books found homes on the bed, the side table, and the dresser.

“Is-is there anything I can do? Can I get you new wallpaper or something? Or, I could knit you a blanket, maybe?”

Phoebe sighed and placed a hand on Piper’s knee.

“You could make a home out of anything, you know that? You could make a dark cave feel like one of those cozy old coffee shops you’d find along Main. And everyone would always wanna stop by because it’s you. I’ve always made a house out of something, but never a home.”

“You being here is enough. I’m just...trying to figure out what I’m doing here, you know? Just trying to find something...permanent.”

“Your sisters are as permanent as it gets, I’m afraid,” Piper said softly, looking into Phoebe’s eyes. “No matter how angry we get at each other, we’ll _always_ be sisters.”

Phoebe pulled Piper in closely and stroked her hair. Piper smelled just like their mother, the same soft sandalwood smell, though she never wore perfume.

“We should keep going on this,” Phoebe said, gesturing to the floor. “I don’t wanna be cooped up in here all day.”

**♡♡♡**

Prue placed her briefcase on the kitchen island, earning a look from Piper, who was thumbing through one of her tattered leather recipe books.

“I’ll move it in a sec,” she said with disposition, hanging her keys on the hook.

“Long day?”

“Longer than you can imagine. Where’s Phoebe?”

“Upstairs cleaning her room.”

Prue picked up her briefcase, eyeing the array of recipe cards on the island.

“She’s really moving back in, huh?”

“I think so,” Piper said, fixated on deciphering her old ink scribbles.

Prue stood behind her, squinting at the card.

“Your handwriting sucks. You wrote _horseradish_.”

“Does not. This is old.” She finally looked up at Prue.

“Please, your handwriting’s always been awful. Why are you digging up old recipes, anyway? We haven’t had horseradish in forever.”

Piper sighed and pulled a grater out of the drawer.

“I’m making _Salisbury Steak Deluxe_ , one of Phoebe’s favourites growing up. I wanted to make her feel more at home.” 

Prue watched as Piper took horseradish from the fridge and examined it.

“Sizing it up?” She said, stifling a laugh.

“Checking its colour.”

“Why’ve you got that, anyway?”

“I bought it last week and I wanted to try something new, but Phoebe coming home gives me a great opportunity, so I just thought-”

“Hiya, Prue,” Phoebe quipped, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi,” Prue responded, looking down at her briefcase.

“You two don’t start,” Piper warned, pointing the horseradish between them. “It’s been a really nice day, okay? Don’t start fighting.”

Phoebe approached the island and took a seat, admiring the mess.

“Whatcha making?”

“It’s a surprise,” Piper said, grinning as she grated a small portion of horseradish into a pinch-bowl. “One of your favourites.”

Phoebe looked to Prue.

“How was work?”

“Long.”

“You’ve got more words than that.”

“Phoebe,” Piper said sharply, refusing to take her eyes off of her food.

“It’s okay, Piper. I’m just getting real tired of the museum, alright? Thinking about quitting and all, and I’m just...I’m stressed out.”

“Prue, honey, you can always take some time off. I can handle the finances for now-”

“I know, but I can’t do that. Your job is stressful enough as it is. I wouldn’t make you the sole provider for us.”

Piper leaned on the counter and turned to Prue. She wiped her hands on her apron.

“It’ll be fine, really. I’m happy to provide for my family, you both know that.”

Prue smiled softly, holding onto the side of the archway. She extended her smile to Phoebe and backed out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go get changed. Don’t talk about me too much.”

Phoebe reached over for Piper’s cookbook and began to thumb through it gently, wary of its fragile papers.

“How old is this?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Piper said, spinning on her heel to her spices. “Grams had the book when we were kids, so 20 years? 25?”

“Is this your writing?”

“Some of it. The later stuff’s all mine.”

“Even this? _Dutch_ ...what is this? _Dutch B_ -”

“ _Dutch Baby Pancakes_ ,” Piper read aloud, pulling the book towards her. “That was the first breakfast recipe I wrote in.”

“That’s yours?” Phoebe raised an eyebrow as she pulled the book back. “ _You_ wrote that?”

Piper rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself.

“‘Course I did.”

“You have the same writing as Grams, and you remember how hard it was for me to forge her signature.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“I should’ve gotten you to do it.”

Piper threw a dish towel over her shoulder before opening the oven.

“You know I wouldn’t have. What do you both have against my writing?”

“What did Prue say?” Phoebe leaned in, still staring at the monstrosity that was Piper’s handwriting.

“She said it sucks, all because I couldn’t make out _horseradish_.”

“Well-”

“Pheebs, I learned how to read and spell in those books. Heaven help me if I’ve also learned how to write from them.”

Phoebe laughed and spun the book back around to Piper. She took a look around the kitchen. It looked different in the evening than it did at midnight. Dinnertime had the same strange feeling of warmth, that everyone would be back together again. It felt weird to have such a hope. She shifted in her seat, her eyes wandering across the cabinets.

“You got new bowls,” she noted, eyeing a set of patterned bowls. Piper looked up at them and nodded.

“Prue bought me them when I got my promotion.” She reached up for one and cautiously brought it down. Phoebe stared at the pattern in awe.

“That’s one hell of a gift for you.”

“They’re vintage pyrex. They remind me of Grams. She figured I couldn’t be a sous chef without fancy vintage pyrex, you know?”

Piper handed Phoebe the bowl and began to fill a pot with water. She hadn’t realized how much Phoebe had missed. Little things like promotion presents and the day-to-day stresses of work that she and Prue shared; Phoebe knew nothing of it. In some ways, she felt as though she’d been purposely keeping things from her, but in others, she wondered if it were for the better.

“How is work? I never thought to ask you.”

“I love it,” Piper said, a smile forming on her face. “It’s what I want to be doing, you know? I get to cook and Prue comes to visit me on her lunch breaks.”

“So, you’re both fine?”

“As fine as we can be, I suppose.”

Piper pinched some sea salt from a bowl and sprinkled it over a garnish. Phoebe watched her with interest. Her warm brown eyes moved back and forth across her dish, evidently calculating her next move.

Phoebe tilted her head, waiting for Piper’s eyes to meet hers.

“What’s not fine?”

“I don’t know.”

Piper stopped working and looked up at Phoebe, her eyes slightly misty. She blinked the mist away and pushed her bangs out of her face.

“We - _I_ didn’t really get past Grams.” She looked down once more at the island. “You left right after and then I started at the restaurant.”

“I couldn’t be around here,” Phoebe said quietly, “You know that.”

“She never got to see me as a chef-”

“She can see you now, honey, and that’s all that matters.”

“It’s still hard.”

“I know.”


	3. New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prue and Phoebe have part of the conversation they've been avoiding. It's a hard one, but it's a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blessed be! I wish we could have seen a conversation between Prue and Phoebe shortly after Phoebe got home. Here's some of what I would have liked to see. It's the start of their conversation; there will be plenty more to come.

Piper stood up from her armchair in the parlour and placed her book down. She moved to the doorway and pulled her dressing gown over her chest.

“I’m gonna go and do some laundry,” she said to Phoebe, who was sitting on the sofa in a blanket.

Phoebe looked at Piper and nodded and then turned to the fire.

Moments later, Prue entered the room with a blanket and a newspaper. She eyed Phoebe and spun around on her heel.

“Prue-”

Prue looked back at Phoebe and sighed.

“Stay.”

Prue pressed her lips together and slowly spun back around. She walked sheepishly back into the room and moved the book from the armchair that Piper had sat on.

“She’s got a lot of books,” Prue remarked, eyeing the book cover.

“You’re telling me,” Phoebe responded, pulling another book from behind a cushion. She placed it on the coffee table.

Phoebe looked at Prue, who was scanning the paper.

“Can we talk?” she asked quietly.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Uh, everything,” Phoebe said, this time louder than before. 

Piper appeared in the doorway, holding her laundry basket at her side.

“I’m gonna do laundry. Do you need anything done? I’ve got a small load going in, just my uniform.”

“I’m good, Pipe,” Prue said, “I’ll do mine tomorrow.”

Piper looked to Phoebe.

“Half of my stuff is still in suitcases.”

“I’ll go through it tomorrow and wash it then,” Piper said, smiling softly. She left Phoebe and Prue to themselves.

“You’re the best!” Phoebe called after her.

“What ‘ _everything’_ is there to talk about?” Prue hissed, stashing the newspaper to her side.

“We haven’t spoken in a year,” Phoebe responded softly, leaning forward. “I don’t wanna go a minute more.”

“Here’s your conversation, then.”

“I mean it.”

“You were wrong to leave, you know.”

“I wasn’t wrong to _leave_ ,” Phoebe corrected sharply, “The timing wasn’t right.”

Prue scoffed, leaning back.

“The timing? Phoebe, you left two days after Grams’s funeral. Piper didn’t even get to say goodbye to you because she was sobbing in her bedroom for who knows how long.”

“I shouldn’t have left when I did-”

“It wrecked her,” Prue said, “You shouldn’t have left at all.”

Phoebe sighed and looked down at the floor. The wood still carried the scratches from the past, all the times she’d dropped something or spilled something. It was a canvas of her life, a life she sometimes wished would start over. It sat still now, looking the same as it did when times were easier. What words it carried, Phoebe wouldn’t know.

“Listen, I don’t regret leaving,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting Prue’s. “But I _do_ regret leaving you.”

Piper peeked her head around the corner from the hallway and smiled.

“I’m making tea, do you want anything?” Her voice was sweet and light; a contrast to the energy of the room.

“Coffee,” Prue and Phoebe said simultaneously.

Piper looked down at her watch.

“At this hour? I’ll never understand you two.”

Prue smiled at Piper and turned to Phoebe, her smile almost reaching her eyes. Phoebe looked down at the blanket and sighed.

“Why were you so quick to leave?”

“I dunno, I-I guess it hurt too much to stay.” She bit her lip and looked up. “It hurt seeing Piper so distraught, and it hurt knowing you’d step up and look after us. I didn’t wanna be a liability anymore.”

The girls looked at each other as the calming sound of Piper’s humming drifted through the house. Phoebe smiled wistfully.

“I’ve missed that.”

“You’ve missed a lot.”

“But nothing’s changed-”

“Everything’s changed, Pheebs,” Prue said, “We’re different now.”

“Hardly-”

“Piper got the courage to quit her job at the bank, and-and I figured out how to live with just one person. Everyone just sort of left. It was you, me, Piper, and Grams one day, and the next, it was Piper and me.”

Piper’s humming continued to float through the room. It was a nostalgic sound that reminded Prue and Phoebe of the simpler times when things were good and happy and bright.

“Piper’s an adult,” Phoebe said, “You’ve got to stop protecting her the way you do.”

“Who else was I supposed to protect? You? All the way in New York?”

“Piper used to call.”

“Well, Piper can’t handle losing people,” Prue snapped, starling Piper as she appeared in the doorway.

Piper looked down at the coffee cups in her hands and then looked up at Prue. She walked into the room slowly, her movements docile, and placed the cups on coasters.

“I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s not about you, honey,” Prue said softly, reaching for Piper’s hand.

Piper pursed her lips and retreated backwards. She folded her arms and looked between her sisters.

“I’m...I’m gonna go...get my tea,” she began, “I think I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight.”

She collected a book from the coffee table and left the room swiftly.

Prue and Phoebe pouted at Piper as she walked away. They certainly did not mean to upset their sister, but it was evident that she had heard something she wasn’t supposed to. They turned back to each other.

“Um, how exactly has this year been?” Phoebe questioned, “‘Cause when I came back last night, she was the same as always, and the moment we saw each other, I knew you were the same as I left you, and-”

“We’re not the same-”

“And now it’s pretty clear that you’ve both got your problems.”

“Of course we’ve got problems. Our Grandmother died, Pheebs, and you up and left. And we were left to pay for the manor and act like nothing happened. Piper’s in a...a perpetual state of mourning, and I’ve been overworked for months.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. I was terrified for you,” Prue admitted, “Every single night, you were the last thing I thought of. I’d sometimes get up for a drink, and I’d hear Piper on the phone to you, and...and I wish I was half the person she was for that.”

“What does that mean?”

Phoebe shifted in her seat, pulling her blanket up over her chest. Her eyebrows furrowed as Prue collected her thoughts.

“I was so angry when you left, like, so angry. I gave up on everything. I figured, if I couldn’t protect you from the dangers of the world, then there was nothing more to it.” She shook her head. “I got _protect_ confused with _control_.” 

“I’m alright,” Phoebe said, “I made it back here in one piece, didn’t I? I learned my own fair share of lessons out there, Prue.”

Prue let a smile escape her lips.

“Not as many as I’ve learned.”

Both women looked down at the floor. The silence was a deep pit; one false move and you’d trip and fall down to your demise. Phoebe heard her thoughts for the first time in over a year. The crackling of the fire filled some of the silence, but it was an unwanted filling, the kind that never quite fit.

“What...what happened in New York?”

Phoebe’s eyes met Prue’s. She searched her face for something, anything, that would give her an answer. Even she didn’t know what to tell her, how to tell her.

“A lot of things,” she finally began. “I partied...a lot, I slept with different people, experimented-”

“Phoebe,” Prue said softly.

“I was figuring out who I am, you know? I went to these really crappy restaurants because I can’t cook, and I can’t afford groceries. I lived in an awful apartment with lousy neighbours. I got lucky, actually, because if you stood tall enough, you could see some lights above the buildings.” She smiled fondly. “I used to stare at those lights for hours, wondering what you were up to over here.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Sort of. At the beginning I did.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe said in reflection. “Me, I suppose. I kept thinking of you and Piper in everything I did. Every time I ate, I’d remember Piper’s cooking, and all the old buildings I walked past, in the darkest of nights...I wished you could be there with me to see them. You would’ve loved them.”

Prue pursed her lips and looked down at her coffee.

“You missed us, then?”

“I think so.”

“That’s why you came back?”

Phoebe tilted her head to the side in thought.

“Honestly? I missed being safe. I missed having people around who love me, people who bring me coffee, who do my laundry, who cook for me, who tell me off when I need to be told off, and...yeah, I suppose I missed being safe.”

Prue furrowed her brows once more, curling her hands around her mug.

“Pheebs, what happened out there?”

Phoebe sighed and ran her hand along her forehead. Words were hard, she thought. Words were easy and short and often meaningless. But tonight, they were hard. They were hard and complicated and they meant things. They meant real things that would affect her sister.

“You know, the not-so-good stuff,” she started, leaning forward. “Just, stupid boys who didn’t love me, doing stupid things to me...me believing them and throwing myself at them, only to wake up alone the next morning. I was with a different guy each week sometimes, and...and I know that makes me sound-”

“It doesn’t,” Prue said softly, shaking her head.

“I come back and Piper’s been with Jeremy since I left, and you’re with Roger... I just don’t get it. I didn’t even go to New York to look for love, but I came back wondering if I should even bother-”

“Pheebs, that’s not true,” Prue said, “I know that’s not true. You want the best for everyone, and you know that. You’re so willing to give the best to everyone that you forget to give the best to yourself.”

“I’m selfish-”

“Love isn’t selfish, babe.”

Tears began to well in Phoebe’s eyes. She stared at her coffee, taking deep breaths to calm herself. It felt as though a weight had been lifted. Prue would never learn the full extent of her experiences in New York. Phoebe couldn’t tell her. Prue walked over and sat beside her.

“It is what it is. I lived and I learned, right? Isn’t that the point?”

“Being thrown around like that wasn’t a lesson,” Prue snapped, this time in a different tone than usual. Instead of snapping at Phoebe, it sounded as though she were snapping _for_ her.

“I learned not to give myself up like that-”

“Listen to me, somebody mistreating you is _not_ some lesson that everyone is supposed to learn.”

“I’m getting past it. I just needed to come home. I couldn’t stay there another night knowing that I had two people right here who loved me more than those boys could ever.” Phoebe leaned on Prue, resting her head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for not looking out for you more,” Prue said, “And I’m sorry I tried to control you.”

“It’s okay, I know you were just-”

Prue shook her head and stroked Phoebe’s hair.

“No excuses. I’m sorry.”

Prue and Phoebe sat, nestled into one another, staring at the fire. It didn’t feel so dark anymore. The crackling didn’t fill the empty space, it complemented it. The empty space was always going to be empty space, though now it had a friend. The fibres of Phoebe’s blanket suddenly felt more familiar; no longer a fragment of the past she’d tried running from for so long. Everything felt...whole again.

“You were always my harshest critic,” Phoebe mumbled, “But you were always rooting for me.”

Prue kissed the top of Phoebe’s head and the pair looked around the room. Phoebe let a giggle escape as her eye caught the title of the book on the coffee table.

“Okay, _Prisoner of my Desire_? Really?”

Prue scoffed as she picked up the book.

“Oh, dear,” she said, “She’s a romantic alright.”

She thumbed through it, finding Piper’s place as a photo of Piper and Grams fell out. Phoebe held the photo, admiring their smiles. They were in the garden, soil on their hands, and flowers around them.

“Now let’s see what the hell this is about,” Prue said, her finger tracing over the prose.

The pair sat together, giggling away at the ridiculous novel Piper had been reading; catching up on the year they’d spent away from each other. Together at last.


	4. Sand and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been one year since Grams's death and Piper's done keeping it in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I wanted this chapter to focus on Piper a bit more as I wish the show had gone more into her anxieties and insecurities. As I rewatch, I find myself picking up on so many little signs of anxiety in Piper, and I think a lot of them stem from her parents splitting up and Grams dying. I figured I'd write one of those sorts of scenes. I hope you enjoy it.

Saturday mornings were Phoebe’s favourite. They always had been. The sun rose faster on Saturdays, breakfast tasted better, and pyjamas felt comfier. She laid in bed, covers up to her chin, staring at the ceiling. She could hear Piper and Prue chatting away downstairs. The faint smell of cinnamon toast wafted through the house. Home at last. She breathed deeply and sat up. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the messy floor. Her feet found the ground and she stood up slowly. Saturdays were good, slow, and kind.

“Good morning,” Phoebe said, walking into the kitchen. She was putting her hair into a bun.

“Morning,” Piper said, placing a carton of eggs on the island.

“I could smell the cinnamon from upstairs,” Phoebe said, “I had to come down.”

“I was gonna say,” Prue began, “It’s a bit early for you, huh?”

Phoebe grinned and pulled a mug from behind the coffee maker.

“How was last night?” Piper asked softly, eyes fixated on her cooking.

“Wonderful,” Phoebe said, spinning around. “Wasn’t it Prue? We talked and laughed and I feel like we’re really sisters again.”

Piper looked up at Prue, a soft smile forming on her face.

“She’s right,” Prue said, bringing her coffee cup to her mouth. “It was nice to sit and talk and not fight.”

“We liked your book,” Phoebe said, turning back to the coffee machine. She giggled.

“Which one?”

“Oh, I don’t know, what was it, Prue? _Desire_ -something?”

“ _Prisoner of My Desire_ ,” Prue called out, laughing along with Phoebe. “Nice choice, Pipe.”

Piper shook her head and cracked an egg over her pyrex bowl.

“That’s a good gift,” Phoebe pointed the bowl out to Prue, “I would’ve never thought to get her those.”

“Well, a good sous chef needs good bowls, doesn’t she?” Prue said. “And I had to get the ‘57 rooster ones - I know how much you loved the ones Grams had.”

Prue extended her smile to Piper. She sat down at the island, watching as her sister meticulously added cinnamon to a pinch bowl.

“How was your night last night?” Phoebe asked, “You sort of grabbed your stuff and left.”

Piper shrugged, refusing to look up from her food.

“I’m sorry if we upset you,” Phoebe added, “We didn’t mean to. You just kinda...came in at the wrong time.”

“I...know,” Piper mumbled, “I needed the night to myself.”

Phoebe furrowed her brows and looked at Prue, who had a rather muted look on her face. Prue looked down at her coffee. Phoebe grabbed her mug from the coffee machine and spun around to place it on the island.

“Everything alright?” Phoebe asked.

“I don’t know.”

Phoebe moved beside Piper and put her hand on the small of her back. She gently rubbed it up and down, trying to see Piper’s face.

“Oh, honey, if I’d known you were upset-”

“Phoebe,” Prue said softly.

“I’m alright,” Piper said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’m gonna go and get my laundry out of the dryer.”

The girls watched as Piper made a beeline for the laundry room. They looked at each other, then back to the laundry room. Once Piper was out of earshot, Prue leaned over.

“Phoebe,” she hissed, “It’s been a year since Grams-”

“Oh!” Phoebe exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Oh, I forgot-”

Prue nodded and pursed her lips. She flicked open the newspaper and picked up a red marker.

“What’s all that?”

“Looking for a new job,” Prue muttered, scanning the classifieds. “What _you_ should be doing, really.”

Phoebe sighed and pulled a stool up to the side of the island.

“Piper’s gonna hate you for that; blocking her path and all.”

“Prue, I can’t believe I forgot about Grams,” Phoebe whispered, “What do I even say to her?”

Prue looked up at her sister and shook her head.

“You say nothing. You just bring her tea and put a blanket on her and offer to cook for her-”

Phoebe chuckled lightly at the thought of cooking for her sister, a sous chef in a nice San Francisco restaurant. Piper wasn’t necessarily a picky eater, but she was picky about cooking styles. Taking her out for dinner was a nightmare as she’d pick apart everything and stress about her menu not being good enough. It was more like taking her to see the competition, and nothing freaked Piper out more than that.

“Okay,” Prue retreated, “Maybe leave the cooking to her. But don’t overstep. She’s...sad, okay? Let her be sad.”

“I know.”

Piper placed her laundry basket on the kitchen table and ran her hand over her fresh laundry. The faint smell of vanilla blanketed Prue and Phoebe as Piper walked past.

“I’ve forgotten how home laundry smells,” Phoebe said, taking in a deep breath. “Isn’t it funny how much power smells have?”

“You’re funny,” Prue said, returning to the classifieds. She began to circle, perfectly, of course, a job description at the local news agency. “I think I’ve just found a job that, like, is a perfect mix of what I wanna do.”

“What is it?” Piper asked softly, stirring a mixture of melted butter and vanilla.

“Photojournalism,” Prue said excitedly, showing the newspaper to her sisters. “Look, it’s at the local news agency. I get to photograph events and tell a story. I can do, like, a history take on it and photograph the graveyard or something-”

“Oh, you’d be great at that,” Piper said, “Yeah, I think you’d love it there.”

Prue put the paper back on the table and flipped to the next page of classifieds.

“Can’t just place all my eggs in one basket,” she said, “I should look for other jobs. This one almost sounds too good to be true.”

“You’re allowed to have a nice thing,” Piper advised, “We all are. Don’t we get one nice thing? Just one?”

Phoebe giggled, bringing her mug to her mouth.

“I think so,” she responded. “Just one. I wonder what my nice thing is.”

“These,” Piper said, placing a plate of cinnamon toast in front of her. “I’m joking. Your nice thing will come.”

“And yours?”

“That’ll come too.”

♡♡♡

Prue peeked around Piper’s door and stood still for a few moments. In the darkness of the bedroom, Prue could make out Piper’s body under the covers. Sobs escaped the covers and Prue frowned.

“H-honey?” She asked, pushing the door open slightly. 

Piper continued to cry and Prue swallowed thickly. She inched closer into the room before closing the door behind her. She made her way through the darkness and sat beside Piper. The younger woman shook under the covers and her sobs grew louder, almost as if they were allowed to be.

“Honey, I’m here,” Prue said softly, placing her hand on the covers.

She reached over and flicked on Piper’s bedside lamp. It illuminated the room in a warm white, rather reminiscent of a candle. It was just how Piper liked it.

“Prue?”

“It’s me, it’s okay.”

Piper turned over to face Prue. Her face was red and blotchy and sticky. Her pillow was soaked and her bangs were stringy. Prue’s face fell at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” Piper mumbled, trembling as her voice broke. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, babe? You’re allowed to be sad.”

Prue pushed Piper’s bangs back and stroked her hair. It killed her to see Piper this way. Piper was the strong one. Piper was the pillar, the heart, the constant sense of security and peace. Even when it felt as though the world was ending, Piper could stop it. To see her in such a way hurt.

“Piper, honey, cry it out. Get it all out.”

“I can’t,” Piper sobbed, taking in sharp breaths.

“Just like you’re doing,” Prue instructed.

Piper shook her head and slowly sat up. She stared at the wall opposite from her bed and her face scrunched up. The wall was filled with family photos and memorabilia. It was all neatly arranged, just how Piper liked it. It was a wall of those she loved. But it was a wall of those she’d lost.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Piper said in a small voice, finally turning to meet Prue’s worried eyes.

“You’re grieving-”

“Without Grams. Oh my God, what the hell am I doing?”

“Piper-”

“I can’t be a...a chef! I can’t...I won’t make money-”

“Piper, you’ve made good money as a chef,” Prue consoled, “I-I don’t know-”

“I’ve known her my wh-whole l-life.” A choked sob came and she looked down at her blanket.

“I know.”

“-And...and now she’s not here. And-and she’s part of me, and...nobody will know who she is and-”

Prue pulled Piper in closely. Piper’s head rested against Prue’s chest and her tears began to flow freely, dampening her shirt.

“You’re allowed to be sad,” Prue offered, rubbing her thumb on Piper’s shoulder. “Babe, you’re allowed to be really sad. You’re allowed to be angry, even-”

“I couldn’t be angry.”

“Well, you’re allowed to be.”

Piper took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Prue continued to stroke her shoulder. She remembered these nights all too well. The first few after their parents had split up were the hardest. Piper had been in the kitchen. She’d heart snippets of arguments, and she’d get upset and she’d go off to read. Prue had heard everything, well, mostly everything. She’d stand outside the bedroom door, deciphering late night talks. She put it together quite quickly that her parents didn’t love each other. She hoped Piper and Phoebe never came to that realization.

Eventually, on Piper’s fifth birthday, their father walked out the door for the last time. The image became etched in Prue’s mind; an art piece she could never quite name. She remembers the nights when Piper would ask when their father would be home. She’d save spare cookies for him and ask when he’d read her another story. When she finally realized that he wasn’t coming back, she couldn’t help but cry. Prue slept in Piper’s room more than hers at seven years old. Those nights came flooding back like a river.

“Today’s really hard,” Prue said, beginning to rock Piper slowly back and forth, just as she used to. “Today’s really hard, I know.”

“I-I want her back.”

“I know.”

Piper trembled in Prue’s arms. Grams’s death flashed before her.

* * *

_Thud, thud, thud._

_Piper’s head shot up from the sewing machine, her foot slipping off of the pedal. She dropped her fabric._

_“Grams?”_

_Her heart dropped into her stomach as she shot up. The world felt slow. Her feet smacked the hardwood as she ran towards the hallway._

_Thud, thud, thud._

_Piper threw open the door. Her eyes widened. The colour drained from her face._

_“Grams!”_

_She fell down beside her grandmother. Grams was pale. Piper tilted her head up, resting her on her knees. She heard hurried footsteps approaching._

_“Prue! Prue!”_

_“Piper? Grams?”_

_“Grams?” Piper asked quietly, her voice becoming small._

_Prue knelt down beside Piper, brushing lightly against her shoulder. She felt warm. Prue felt Grams’s neck. She stood up._

_“I’m gonna call 911,” she said calmly, placing a hand on Piper’s shoulder. She ran into her bedroom._

_Piper stared at the stairs to the attic. A non-existent recollection of events played through her mind. Her eyes wandered down the stairs, to Grams. How in the world was she supposed to go on without her person, her best friend, her heart?_

* * *

“Honey,” Prue said softly, “I’m gonna get you something to drink, alright? Something to cool you down. You’re burning up.”

Piper nodded, sniffling as her tears began to resurface. She clutched her blanket and held it to her chest.

Prue slipped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Phoebe was at the top of the stairs in her nightgown, holding a mug of juice.

“I thought you were going to bed,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m...I am, I’m getting water.”

“It’s Piper, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I’m not dumb, Prue. She’s been holding it in all day.”

“Don’t go in.”

Prue sighed and walked past Phoebe, rushing down the stairs. Phoebe turned to Piper’s bedroom and slowly approached her door. She pressed her ear against it, listening to her quiet whimpering.

Without thought, she entered her bedroom. Piper was staring at the wall across from her. The light illuminated her wet, red face. Her cheeks were puffy and her hair was a mess. Phoebe had seen Piper upset over many, many things in her life. She would cry over less-than-perfect tests, sappy films, and the thought of never amounting to anything. Phoebe had been there for those moments. This was different. These tears were thicker, saltier. This pain was deeper.

“Hey,” she whispered, setting her mug on the side table. It was clad with a prayer book and rosary, things that Phoebe didn’t recognize.

Piper continued to stare ahead.

“Hey, listen,” Phoebe continued, sitting on the edge of the bed. She placed a hand on Piper’s knee.

“I know it’s hard missing Grams. She was there for every minute of our lives. I know how lost you’re feeling-”

Piper dissolved into anguish, her face scrunching and tears falling faster. She put her hand over her mouth to cover her shuddering gasps.

“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said, “I...I don’t know what to say-”

“Phoebe,” Prue snapped, appearing at the door holding a glass of water. She stormed into the room and stood beside the bed, holding the glass out to Piper.

“What did you say to her?”

Prue pushed Piper’s bangs back as Piper took the glass. She looked to Phoebe, quite visibly upset.

“She’s crying, Prue,” Phoebe defended, “What was I supposed to do, ignore her?”

“I-”

“‘Cause if I did that, you’d call me selfish-”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Prue spat.

“Stop!” Piper cried, slamming the glass on the side table. Water spilled onto her prayer book. Prue quickly began to wipe it off.

Phoebe stared at Piper’s almost expressionless face. She looked numb. She looked like every fibre of every feeling she ever had had been ripped out. She was a shell of herself.

“You made this _worse_ ,” Prue growled, pressing her shirt onto one of the prayer book’s pages.

“Stop,” Piper repeated, this time in a whisper. She covered her face with her hands and slumped against her headboard.

“Honey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Phoebe offered softly, beginning to pout.

“I told you not to come in here.”

“Why?” Phoebe said, shaking her head.

Prue continued flipping through the prayer book, trying her best to soak up the water.

“Because you wanted more time with Piper? Is that it?”

“Again, you’re putting words in my mouth-”

“Because you’re not using yours!”

Piper pushed the covers off of her body and crawled out of the bed. Prue and Phoebe watched as she wrapped her dressing gown around herself and walked quickly out of the room.

Prue glared at Phoebe.

“You did this,” Prue said, pointing to the door. 

“We both did.”

Phoebe looked down at the covers.

“She’s an emotional sponge,” Prue said, shaking her head. “She would’ve felt the tension between us anyway. This just makes it worse.”

“What do we do?” Phoebe asked. “What do _you_ do?”

Prue sighed and began wiping the side table off with a tissue.

“I stay here.”

“What, and let her go...who knows where?”

“She’s gone to the kitchen,” Prue said softly, “Where she’s always gone for comfort. She’ll be back.”

“Well, what’s she doing? Cooking a grief feast? I-”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking, Prue, I’m serious.”

“She’s cleaning. It’s...it’s a control thing. She can’t control her emotions, and the kitchen is the one place in this house where she has full control.”

Phoebe sighed, placing a hand on the blanket Piper had been cradling. Her heart broke for her sister. She wondered if she should have even bothered to check on her. Prue had advised against it, but why? Phoebe only wanted to let Piper know she was there, and she’d somehow made everything worse.

“Wouldn’t she have left anyway?”

Prue stopped wiping the table down and turned to Phoebe. She sat on the bed beside her and began to lightly fan the pages of the prayer book.

“I...I really thought I’d done it tonight,” she admitted, “I thought she was gonna stay. I thought I’d get her a glass of water and she’d drink it and we’d cuddle and talk, and she’d fall asleep. I thought she was alright.”

“She still will be.”

Prue shook her head.

“It should be like...like clockwork, you know? I’ve only been doing this for, oh, I don’t know, 20 years. I can’t believe I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Prue said, “‘Cause that’s why she left. Not you coming in. It was me. She left ‘cause we were fighting. Had we just shut up-”

Phoebe looked down at her hands and pursed her lips. She knew the cycle. Prue would yell at her and snap and get all angry. Piper would freak out and avoid everything. And Phoebe would be left to pick up the pieces. She felt like a de facto middle sister, and she hated it. That was Piper’s role, whether she liked it or not. 

“We need to stop doing this,” Phoebe said quietly, “We need to stop arguing. You need to stop controlling me, and I need to stop ignoring you.”

“They’re meaningless arguments, you know. I told you last night that I’m trying to look out for you.”

“And I told you that I know you’ve always got my best interests in mind. But you’ve gotta let me make mistakes.”

“I just don’t want them at the expense of Piper.”

♡♡♡

Piper opened her bedroom door slowly, revealing her sisters fast asleep on her bed. Prue was by the headboard, still holding onto the prayer book. Phoebe was at the foot of the bed with a blanket half-covering her.

Piper entered her room and hung her dressing gown on its hook. She walked past the mirror, briefly catching her reflection. Two hours of cleaning had finally exhausted her. It was evident in her eyes. She scowled at her reflection. She didn’t recognize herself. 

She spun around and turned off her lamp. She crawled onto her bed, fitting in between Prue and Phoebe. She pulled her blanket over herself and took the same deep breaths she took every night. Everything was silent. She stared at the ceiling and took it in. Peace. Finally.


	5. Aftershock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe and Piper discuss the events of the previous night. Prue returns home with news. The girls come to realize the beginning of a long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing that always bothered me about the show was that Piper was shown on several occasions to have some form of panic or anxiety disorder, though it was only ever used as a plot point when convenient. Since the very beginning, we've seen her panic over many things. In season 4, she drank herself to sleep over her fears. In season 5, she genuinely had a panic attack and proceeds to scribble all sorts of stuff on the walls in the attic. In season 7, it's revealed that she had night terrors as a child. Point is, these very obvious signs of something being wrong were used only as plot points when they had excellent means of developing Piper's story with mental health. I'm going to try and do that here, try to give Piper justice on this front because her character deserves it.

Piper’s eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling. She heard her bedroom door opening. She slowly turned towards the door, squinting, as her eyes adjusted to the light. Phoebe approached her holding a cup of tea and a book.

“Morning,” Phoebe said softly, placing the tea on the side table. She sat at the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Piper’s leg.

“Um,” Piper began as she rubbed her eyes. “Um, what...what time is it? Where’s Prue?”

Phoebe checked her watch.

“8:30. Prue left for work a little while ago.”

“8:30? I slept in-”

Phoebe suppressed a laugh, looking down.

“8:30 is hardly sleeping in-”

“For me, it is.”

“It’s okay, honey, you had a long night.”

“I know, but-”

“It’s okay.”

Piper looked down at her covers. It was far too bright for her liking. She was used to waking up before the sun. She was used to drinking a cup of tea in the conservatory, amongst her plants, reading a book. Mornings were for living and appreciating. She’d come to hate the nights, for she’d experienced enough darkness in the day.

She eyed her prayer book in Phoebe’s hand and leaned forward.

“Um, why do you have that?”

Phoebe looked down at the book. She held it out to Piper, who gently pulled it away.

“Oh, yeah, uh, last night you kinda got a bit of water on it. Prue dried it off and brought it downstairs to dry in the window before she left. Figured I’d bring it up to you.”

“The pages,” Piper began as she ran her hands along the crinkly sheets of smudged writing.

“I don’t think you lost any of the writing,” Phoebe said, looking at the book.

Piper furrowed her brows and looked up at Phoebe. She closed the book at once.

“What do you mean?”

Phoebe swallowed thickly and adjusted her position on the bed. She stared at the book for a moment, gathering the courage to look her sister in the eye.

“I um,” she began slowly, “I was checking to see if anything had been lost, and I, uh, I sorta read a little bit-”

“You read it?” Piper’s voice was small.

Phoebe nodded. Piper held her book tightly.

“I- yeah, I did. I wasn’t trying to pry, I really was checking to see if-”

“You read it,” Piper then stated, matter-of-factly, in the same small voice.

“I wasn’t trying-” Phoebe stopped herself and focused on Piper’s face.

Piper looked down, aggressively biting the insides of her lips. She looked angry, to put it simply. She looked softly angry. She wasn’t going to blow up or have an explosive exit, but Phoebe knew Piper was angry.

“Y-you know, you spell fear with a capital F and you scribble out the-”

Piper flashed her eyes up at Phoebe and back down again.

“You read my book and now you criticize my handwriting?”

“No, no-”

“Then what?”

Phoebe scooted onto the bed. This was a commitment. She had committed to this conversation the moment she admitted to reading the book. She craved Prue’s advice at this moment. Prue knew how to make everything alright. Piper listened to Prue. Their eyes understood each other, a language Phoebe hadn’t learned yet.

“Nothing.”

She placed her hand on Piper’s knee and the room fell silent. The sun was quiet this morning, neatly in its place, shining through the curtains and all.

“It-it’s okay to be afraid,” she began, “But fear is something else entirely and-”

“Phoebe-”

Phoebe raised her voice, ignoring Piper’s hesitations. She wasn’t going to give in to Piper. She wasn’t going to let Piper give in to herself.

“No, Piper,” she said confidently, “Normal fears are...are spiders, or the dark, or… you know, the boogeyman, but your fears are...capital F fears. Big fears.”

She sighed.

“This has taken over your whole life. You’ve been like this forever. You’ve lost out on so much because of fear. It’s time you got help for it, ‘cause it’s just gonna get worse-”

“I’ve already tried.”

“Wh-when?” Phoebe was skeptical.

“After Grams died,” Piper responded, “Prue took me to grief counselling. I don’t know if I grieved over you or Grams more.”

“That’s a start-”

Piper shook her head and pulled her blanket up to her chest.

“It made it _worse_.” Her voice sounded tired, like she could break down at any given moment. Phoebe didn’t know what she was to expect.

“I just remember all the talking and the crying and...and I can’t just forget that. I sometimes think I remember talking and crying more than I remember Grams, and that’s no way I wanna live.”

Phoebe twisted her mouth in thought, staring at the covers once more. She’d gotten to memorize the soft floral patterns on the comforter over the past 12 hours.

“Y-you know, you don’t just have to talk and cry to get better,” she offered, “There are other things out there.”

Piper shook her head softly, beginning to pick at her blanket. It had many little stray fibres where she’d picked it apart over the years. But Piper would never consider such a thing broken; something that needed fixing.

“I couldn’t do that,” she began, “I...I couldn’t just...do that. I-I have a kitchen to run, here and at work, I have to cook and clean and I have to be here for everyone. You need someone to come home to.”

“Those are all reasons why you can’t,” Phoebe said softly, taking Piper’s hands. “Tell me one reason why you can.”

Piper’s mouth opened slightly. She studied Phoebe’s face for a moment before looking down at her blanket.

Phoebe tilted her head, desperately trying to read Piper’s face. For someone so stable, Piper had unpredictable emotions.

“For me?” Her words came as a question, a quiet inquiry.

She shook her head and looked up.

“No, that’s selfish-”

“It’s not selfish,” Phoebe said softly, putting her hand on Piper’s once more. “It’s not selfish, honey, not at all.”

“How would I afford it?” Piper asked, “When I’m...struggling trying to provide enough for us right now?”

“Honey-”

“I can’t afford to be sad,” Piper said, “I _really_ can’t afford to be sad. And Prue’s not gonna work just so I can go and cry for a few hours each week. I won’t let her-”

“I’ll get a job,” Phoebe offered, “If it means you getting back on your feet and being yourself again. No more hiding out and crying yourself to sleep.”

“I can’t handle that much change,” Piper replied, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta change something for something to change.”

Piper finally broke a smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, though it was a start. She grinned at Phoebe and extended her hand. Phoebe caught it.

“If you’re...if you’re seriously gonna get a job, you should think about giving advice to people.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

♡♡♡

“I’m home!” Prue called as she closed the front door.

“In here!” Phoebe and Piper responded from the parlour.

Prue entered the parlour to see Phoebe and Piper, cuddled up, watching _Kill It Before It Dies_. She placed her briefcase on the sofa and then began to take her jacket off.

“How was work?” Piper asked sweetly, pressing pause on the remote.

“I quit,” Prue said firmly.

Phoebe and Piper sat up, eyes and mouths wide.

“Y-you what?” Phoebe said, turning to Piper.

“You only mentioned it a few days ago,” Piper said, “I didn’t think you’d do it so fast-”

“Yeah, well, I could use a little bit of impulsivity. I submitted resumes and booked interviews...it’s gonna be fine. I’m just looking forward to a few days to spend with my sisters.”

“And her cooking,” Phoebe said, nudging Piper. “We saved you some cheesy potatoes in the fridge.”

Prue’s face lit up as she stifled a laugh.

“Oh, I think I’m gonna enjoy these days.”

Phoebe and Piper watched as Prue rushed down the hall, quite obviously making a beeline for the kitchen. Piper turned to Phoebe and frowned.

“I’m the only person making money now,” she said, “I’m...oh, God.”

“Breathe, Piper.”

“I am...I am, I just...what am I supposed to do?”

“We’ll talk to her,” Phoebe said, “We’re gonna talk, and everything’s gonna be fine, just like Prue said. We both want you to get better, Pipe.”

Piper nodded and looked at the floor. Phoebe could see the worry in her sister’s eyes. She could only imagine the chaos inside of Piper’s mind.

“Don’t arrest me for nuking this thing!” Prue called from the kitchen.

Piper smiled softly and looked at Phoebe.

“She’s gone nuclear on my potatoes. She’s gonna ruin my potatoes.”

“I can hear you freaking out from here,” Prue said over the hum of the microwave.

“You just don’t nuke good food,” Piper said, collapsing into the sofa cushions.

“I just did.”

Prue came in with her food and sat down. Phoebe switched the movie off and placed the remote on the coffee table.

“How was your day?” Prue asked, mashing the potatoes with her fork.

Phoebe looked at Piper and then back at Prue. She leaned forward and pushed the blanket off of her lap.

“Piper’s going to ther-”

“No-”

“Piper, what’s wrong?” Prue asked, furrowing her brows as she looked between her sisters.

Piper shook her head.

“Nothing, it’s fine. Go on, Pheebs.”

“Piper’s going to therapy,” Phoebe said, “And it’s gonna cost us, and-”

“I’ve just quit my job,” Prue said, putting her food onto the coffee table. “I’ve just...quit my...job. Had I known-”

“You couldn’t have known,” Piper said, “I kinda just, um, I made the decision this morning.”

Prue folded her arms and leaned forward.

“I thought you said it didn’t help before.”

“There are other options,” Phoebe said, “And grief counselling is different from mental health counselling.”

Prue sighed.

“I’m gonna pay for it,” Piper said quietly, “But I want you to know that it means I’ll have less money for groceries and-”

“I’ll pay for your first session,” Prue said, “How much is it?”

Piper shrugged.

“The restaurant doesn’t cover any of it,” she said, “I’ve checked and-”

“Probably $150 at least,” Phoebe interjected.

Prue opened her purse and fumbled through it quickly before pulling out a few bills. She placed them on the coffee table and flattened them out.

“That’s $150,” she said quietly, “And if it comes out to more, I’ll...” Her voice trailed off as she sat down.

Piper pursed her lips and looked down.

“Y-yeah,” Phoebe said, “And I’m gonna get a job and pay as well, Piper.”

“You don’t have to,” Piper said, “I’m...this is my problem and I’m supposed to fix it.”

“That’s not how this works,” Prue said, leaning forward, “Look, honey, you need help, alright? And you’re gonna go and get it, and this screwed up system doesn’t acknowledge it but we do. We’re gonna pay every penny to make sure you get everything you need.”

Piper stared at the money on the table. All of that hard-earned money for her teensy little problems and crying fits? It couldn’t be. It _wouldn’t_ be. While Prue worked overtime most weeks and Phoebe struggled with even finding a job, she’d cry over everything she didn’t have, everything she’d lost. Her problems were minuscule compared to theirs. But she could never, ever say those thoughts out loud because she’d never hear the end of it.

“I have, like, 40 bucks tops in my purse,” Phoebe offered, “I’ll go get it.”

She stood up but Piper grabbed her wrist.

“I’m a damn chef for God’s sake,” she cried, “I have money!”

“That’s not what this is about,” Phoebe said, furrowing her brows as she sat back down.

“You’re gonna just throw money on the table-”

“We’re not throwing money at the problem,” Prue said, “If that’s what you’re implying.”

Piper sighed deeply and sat up.

“I have money, like, I _have_ money,” her voice was raw and broken, “I can afford this, I just...might need to...I might need to cut back on...groceries and-”

“Then we’ll cut back on groceries,” Prue said, shaking her head slightly. “We’ll do that, no problem.”

“Yeah, and I’ll get a job somewhere just to bring in some money to spend,” Phoebe added.

Piper looked between her sisters and returned her focus to the money. All of that money was somehow going to begin to fix her, to make her cry less at night, to keep her from panicking. It seemed like a miracle, but she didn’t believe in miracles.

“Piper, you’re a good person,” Prue assured her, standing up.

She walked over and sat down beside her, putting Piper in between her and Phoebe. She started stroking her hair.

“You deserve good things.”

Phoebe snuggled against Piper and pulled the blanket over the three of them. She knew this marked the beginning of a very long journey for Piper, and she knew that $150 wasn’t the golden ticket to getting help. But it was a start.


	6. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe considers going to university. Piper debuts her new menu at Quake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I wanted to have a bit of bonding between the sisters. I thought it would be nice for them to go to Quake and try out Piper's new menu. The next chapter will pick up right after this one and we'll get a few little hints as to what's coming next! Enjoy ♡

“Mhm-hm,” Piper said, pressing the house phone to her ear. She paced around the kitchen, going as far as the cord would allow her.

Phoebe and Prue sat at the kitchen table, scouring the classifieds. Prue was busy circling potential job opportunities and underlining keywords. Phoebe, on the other hand, had drifted into the sports section.

“Hey, you know the Yankees won the World Series, right?” Phoebe asked excitedly, holding up the paper.

“They did? How do you even know that? I didn’t know you followed sports.”

Phoebe shook her head and put the paper down.

“I dated a guy in New York who was obsessed with the Yankees,” she said, “He predicted they’d win the ‘98 season. I should give him a call and congratulate him.”

Prue stifled a laugh and looked down.

“Pheebs, you...you slept with a guy  _ and _ got his number?”

Phoebe nodded in exaggeration and leaned forward.

“Oh yes, I did. Two for two, baby!”

The girls laughed.

Piper hung up the phone and sat down at the table, on the edge of a chair. She placed a notepad full of scribbles on the table.

“What’d they say?” Prue asked.

“My appointment’s next Tuesday,” Piper said, “It’ll be $165, but, you know, it’s the price to pay for health.”

“I’ve got $15 in my purse,” said Phoebe, standing up, “I can add it to Prue’s $150-”

“Sit,” Piper said firmly, “I’ve got it. This isn’t your problem, it’s mine.”

“Well, congrats on the appointment,” Prue said with a soft smile. “It’s a step forward.”

“Ugh,” Phoebe said as she flipped back to the classifieds. “Why do I need a four-year degree and six-figures worth of debt to get a job?”

Piper stood up and put her apron on. She tied her hair up and went over to the sink. Prue watched her meek movements.

“Hey,” Piper began, “I’m debuting my new menu at Quake tonight if you both wanna stop by.”

“Any chance you’re debuting it at lunch?” Prue asked.

“Wh-why can’t you make dinner?” Phoebe inquired.

“Work,” Prue said sharply with an eyebrow raised.

“At what job?” Piper spun around to face her sister.

Prue pursed her lips and looked down.

“Should’ve thought that one through. Dinner it is.”

“I’ll reserve our usual table,” Piper said mindlessly as she took some measuring cups out of the cupboard.

“It’s just hit me that I’ve never not had a job,” Prue said, looking between her sisters.

“I’m just thinking ahead,” Piper continued, cutting through Prue’s realization, “I’ll put my appointment on the calendar just in case you’re not up before I leave. I’ll try and cook something before I go, but-”

Phoebe sighed.

“Piper, it’s really bothering me that this costs so much,” she said, resting her chin in her hands.

“It’s fine, really,” Piper replied softly, pouring flour into a bowl. “I have some money put away and-”

“No, I really,  _ really _ wanna help out,” Phoebe said, “I don’t care. I’m gonna get a job and I don’t care how crappy it is. You deserve this.”

Piper wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to her sisters. She could see that they clearly felt helpless. And they had every right to feel helpless. But Piper didn’t want this burden on them. She looked at them both with hung eyes.

“You’ve been here not even two weeks,” she said, “You’re not just gonna throw yourself into some job. This is my thing, and I’ve gotta be the one to deal with it. You hear me?”

She looked at Prue, who had pursed her lips.

“You, too,” she added, “No meddling. This is my thing. All mine.”

“But we just wanna do something,” Phoebe said.

“Come to Quake tonight and try my new menu,” Piper said in a rather chipper voice, “That’ll be helpful enough!”

Prue knew that tone. The cover-up tone, the tone Piper put on when she wanted the world to think she was some perfect, optimistic extrovert. She couldn’t be further from the truth, really. She turned around and her eyes wandered through the classifieds. She was torn between getting the job she wanted and the job she needed.

“Think I should try the whole...school thing again?” Phoebe asked, looking up from the paper.

“And get yourself into debt? I’ve only just finished paying off mine,” Prue said.

“But everyone has debt,” Phoebe replied, “Piper had debt even after her scholarships.”

“Yeah, well, Pheebs, scholarship money doesn’t cover all that much,” Prue said, “I know mine didn’t. And besides, do your grades even qualify you?”

“Can you qualify now, anyway? I only got my scholarships from high school,” Piper added, “I would check with the admissions board. Where would you go for school?”

Phoebe grinned and held up the paper that was turned to an advertisement for City College of San Francisco.

“City College. Maybe it’s not as nice as your schools, but…”

“That doesn’t matter, an education is an education.”

Piper was right. Phoebe stared at the advertisement, picturing herself running up the stairs as she tried to find her class. She’d have her backpack on and all of her papers would be all over the place because she wouldn’t use a binder, even though Piper had bought her one along with her favourite pencils and pens. She’d breathe in the morning air and appreciate life. She’d hear Prue’s voice in her head, telling her she should’ve studied harder for her test. She’d smile to herself because she knew she was right.

“I don’t think I should,” Phoebe said, “I just think right now I need to focus on Piper and get you on your feet before doing anything.”

Piper put her hands on her hips.

“I  _ am _ on my feet,” she said, “Just...kinda...I don’t know, unable to function sometimes because of irrational fears that I  _ know _ are irrational but-”

“Oh, honey, that’s exactly why you need therapy,” Prue said softly.

Piper nodded and let a smile slip from her mouth.

“Right, so I’m gonna pay the money and cry and it’s gonna be fine.”

“Piper-”

“So, you know, I think I’m gonna be fine.”

Phoebe and Prue looked at each other, eyebrows furrowed. Piper walked around to the other side of the island and cracked an egg over a bowl.

“Let’s just stop talking about this,” she said calmly, failing to look up from her food, “And it’s gonna be fine.”

♡♡♡

Piper pressed her white coat down as she looked across her kitchen. Finally, things were working out. Her staff were competent tonight. People listened to her tonight. Things felt right tonight. She spun around and walked into the dining room, where Prue and Phoebe were being ushered inside.

“Over here!” she called, rushing over to them.

“Ooh, look at you,” Phoebe said, checking Piper out. “You’re so cute!”

“Thanks,” Piper said softly.

“There’s a lot of people outside,” Prue noted, looking behind her. “I think it’s gonna be a really good night.”

Piper raised her eyebrows. She was so close to having everything she wanted. So close to having her own restaurant, and her own menu, and lots of people to share it with.

“I don’t need to show you where we usually sit,” she said, placing two menus onto their table. “But here it is. My menu.”

Phoebe and Prue took their jackets off and sat down. The restaurant looked extra gorgeous tonight. The greenery was more green, the lights shone a little brighter, and the ambiance just felt...right.

“Will the chef be joining us tonight?” Phoebe asked playfully. She began to skim the menu.

“I will,” Piper said, “Just as soon as everything is handled and I get a little break.”

A waiter came to the table and poured two glasses of water. The women thanked him and he left swiftly.

“Oh, you’ve even put your  _ roast pork with a gratin of Florence and penne with a port giblet sauce _ on here,” Prue said in a fancy voice, “Very high end, missy.”

“You know, Piper,” Phoebe began, her eyes fixated on the menu, “I’ve always known you could cook, but, like, naming the food?”

“I’m not trying to be pretentious,” Piper said, holding back a laugh, “I promise! If I could just call it  _ pork _ , I would.”

“If the potatoes in this dish are anything like the ones from the other night, I’m getting this,” Prue said, pointing to the pork dish she’d mentioned.

Piper sighed and looked around as patrons began to file into the restaurant. She knew her menu was good; no she knew it was excellent. She’d spent late nights working on it, and she hated late nights. She had prepared the dishes numerous times in her home kitchen before even attempting them at work. Everything had to be absolutely perfect if she were to sleep well at night.

“What do you think I should get?” Phoebe asked, “I haven’t...finely...dined...in ages.”

“Uh,” Piper began as her eyes ran through her menu, “I love them all. Uh, what are you...what exactly are you thinking of? I’ve got basically everything there.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” an overwhelmed Phoebe said, shifting her focus back to the menu. “What about the...uh,  _ seared crab cakes with haricot vert beans and citrus butter sauce _ ?”

Piper nodded and pointed to its accompanying picture.

“The sauce took forever for me to get right, but I think you’ll love it,” she said.

She eyed the filling restaurant and turned back to her sisters. She swallowed thickly.

“Hey, it’s gonna be a really great night,” Prue said, holding onto Piper’s forearm. “Believe me.”

“I know, I know,” Piper said, waving her concerns off with her hand. “It’s...um...Pheebs, you said you didn’t know where to begin, and I’m worried there’s too much-”

“Oh,” Phoebe said with a laugh, “No, no, I just never eat out, that’s all. I’ve lived off of burgers and fries and tv dinners for the past year, so-”

Piper shuddered at the thought of tv dinners. She had luckily never had one, well, she was fortunate enough to not have them. She had Grams’s cooking, so she’s always had an appreciation for fine dining. She thought of the disservice Phoebe must have experienced without really good home-cooked food.

“So, it’s not too big? The menu? You’re sure it’s alright?”

Piper clasped her hands together.

“Yes,” Phoebe said, putting her hand over Piper’s hands. “Yes, a million times. It’s perfect and everyone’s gonna absolutely love it.”

Piper looked around once more and swallowed thickly. She wondered why she worked in such a high-stress industry. Or, was she the one that was high-stress and the industry wasn’t as bad as her mind had made it out to be.

“Okay,” Piper said, “I’m...gonna go and make sure things are running smoothly back there. I’ll come back, okay?”

“Okay,” Prue and Phoebe said in unison.

Phoebe looked down at her glass of water and began to swirl it around with her straw. She looked up at Prue and smiled softly at her.

“I’m really, really proud of her, you know,” she said, “And I know this makes me sound like the older sister here, but...I’m so proud of how far she’s come.”

“I think that’s the most mature thing you’ve ever said, Pheebs,” Prue said with a laugh.

Phoebe pursed her lips and squinted.

“I’m kidding,” Prue added, “I agree. You know, I remember the first time I ever played “restaurant” with her. She was a natural. I was looking after her and we weren’t allowed to use the oven without permission, so she made sandwiches and stuff.” 

Prue smiled fondly at the memory. It played in her head in a warm, sparkly light, reminiscent of a winter morning. She remembered Piper’s little braids and her overalls. She remembered her own little dress and the haircut she hated at the time.

“How old were you?”

“Nine, maybe? I think Piper was only six.”

“And Grams left you alone? Where was I?”

“She had to run errands, so you went with her. PIper and I stayed behind because Piper was going through a tantrum phase.”

Phoebe giggled.

“Wait, really? Piper? Quiet Piper, who sometimes stops reading because she wants to feel even  _ more  _ alone?”

“Yeah, she was still a bit shaken up over Mom and Dad,” Prue said, “And, I mean, I don’t blame her. She didn’t know what faults were. She saw them through rose-coloured lenses. I’d already seen Dad leave once, and Mom yelling at him. I kinda knew they weren’t perfect. I don’t think Piper did.”

“You think that’s why she’s so worried about controlling everything all the time?”

Prue sighed and looked down at her drink.

“I know that’s why she’s worried.”

Prue hated talking about Piper. She hated analyzing her and picking apart her every move. She hated taking guesses about her motivations. She hated wondering what kept her up at night. She hated all of it. She didn’t want to think of Piper in such a way. She wanted to preserve her in a little glass box and put her on display and anyone who tried to touch her would have to get through her first. The past few years had shown her that whatever box she had mentally put her in had crumbled down and the shards of glass were laying around her. This terrified her. Piper terrified her. And she never thought she would think that about her little sister.


	7. The Big Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper has a little too much to drink. Phoebe meets someone new. Prue questions Piper and finds that there is much more she should worry about as they anticipate Piper's first therapy appointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer than expected, but I'm pretty happy with it. I will not stop trying to give Piper justice so if you wanna ask me more about that, my tumblr is @holyhalliwells !!! ♡

Phoebe set her drink on the table and raised her hand for more. She was quite obviously tipsy, but she’d been tipsy enough before to know how to handle herself.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Pheebs?” said Prue as she swirled her straw around her lemonade.

“Oh, let loose, Prue!”

“Someone’s got to be the designated driver,” Prue mumbled.

“But Piper’s not drinking that much,” Phoebe said.

Prue looked at Piper, who was sipping away at her vodka, her head softly bobbing to the rock music playing.

“Who said I wasn’t drinking?” she asked, “‘Cause I never said I wasn’t drinking-”

“You’re way further ahead than I am,” Phoebe remarked, holding up her empty beer bottle.

“Am not,” Piper said, “This is only, like, my third one…”

“Third vodka,” Phoebe said, “Fourth beer. Very different things, girlfriend.”

Piper looked down at her drink and tilted her head to the side. She felt very free, but rather sleepy.

“You should slow down a bit, Piper,” warned Prue, “You know how you get-”

“Here you go,” a waiter said as he placed a bottle of beer in front of Phoebe. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

“The tab,” Prue said.

“Another drink,” Piper said, looking up at the waiter.

“Piper,” Prue said sharply, “Enough.”

“Sorry, Mom,” mumbled Piper, who flashed her eyes at Phoebe. The pair laughed.

Phoebe picked at her napkin and giggled.

“Y’know, this is, like, the first time we’ve all gone out and just had fun,” she remarked.

Prue rolled her eyes.

“It’s not fun waiting for you both to get drunk,” she said, pointedly, “I know you’re gonna go home with some guy, Pheebs, and Piper, you’re gonna pass out the minute we get home and-”

“Just get a cab home,” Phoebe said, waving off Prue’s concerns with her hand. “That’s what I always did.”

“Yeah,” Prue said, “That’s what you did when you had no job, boatloads of debt, and not a responsibility in the world. Unlike you, I have things to take care of.”

Piper rested her head in her hands and squinted her eyes. She looked between her bickering sisters and sighed. Something magical was happening. She wasn’t stressed. She wasn’t compelled to stop the fight. She didn’t feel anything. She liked this.

“I didn’t become Mom for no reason,” Phoebe said, “You put yourself in that position. If you don’t wanna be here, you can go home.”

“You have the car-” Piper added, stopping herself as Prue turned to her with wide eyes.

“What is wrong with the both of you? Have I taught you nothing?”

“Grams taught me everything I know,” Piper said in a sweet voice, resting her chin in her hands.

Prue stood up and put her coat on.

“I have work in the morning,” she began, “And I agreed to not drink, but I didn’t think you guys were gonna drink this much-”

“You don’t know how to have fun,” Phoebe said, “That’s why you’re so miserable all the time!”

“Maybe I’ll walk home,” Piper mumbled, closing her eyes. “Maybe I’ll fly!”

Prue scoffed and shouldered her purse.

“You two are out of your minds,” she snapped, “Have fun paying for all this.”

She stormed out, causing several heads to turn. It was mostly men; men who had had enough to drink that night and could use some company. They eyed both Phoebe and Piper, and then Prue as she neared the exit.

“I need to pee,” Phoebe said, standing up slowly.

She looked at Piper, who had her eyes fixated on the table. She was the kind of person that would drink to stop feeling it all. Her sisters didn’t know that, though, and she was quite alright with that little fact.

“Piper,” Phoebe continued, “I’m gonna go pee. I’ll be back.”

Piper nodded and returned to sipping her drink. Her eyes refused to leave the table.

Phoebe made her way to the bathrooms. They were across the bar, illuminated by a large neon sign. She pushed through the crowds of people, mostly guys. By the bathroom door stood a tall man. His features were defined by the neon lights from the bathroom sign.

“‘Scuse me!” Phoebe yelled over the music.

The man shifted his focus to Phoebe and looked her up and down. Phoebe shuffled backwards slightly, adjusting the straps on her dress.

“Oh, hello,” was all he could say.

“Hey,” she said, stepping to his side.

“You’ve got one hell of a body,” he admitted, bringing his beer glass to his mouth.

Phoebe bit her lip and smiled. This was attention. This made her feel worthy. Everything else was blurry. It was just the two of them in that room and nobody was there to stop her.

She stood on her tiptoes and leaned towards his ear.

“I’m single,” she whispered.

“What’s your name?”

The man pushed some of Phoebe’s hair back. His hand lingered by her head.

“Phoebe,” she mumbled, “What’s yours?”

“Max.”

Max took his hand away and took a sip of his drink.

“Are you here with people?” Phoebe asked, “‘Cause I’m here with my sister and-”

“I was here with some buddies earlier, but they left. Where’s your sister?”

Phoebe gestured to the quieter side of the bar behind her.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom, and I told her I wouldn’t be long, so-”

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Max said.

Phoebe pursed her lips and grinned.

“Okay!”

* * *

Piper yawned and rested her chin in her hands. She was used to drinking alone, but she was beginning to miss Prue and Phoebe. She pulled her cardigan over her shoulders and looked over to the busier part of the bar, scanning the crowd for Phoebe.

Phoebe’s eyes met Max’s as she left the bathroom.

“Wanna get out of here?”

His voice was low and more husky than before. Phoebe let a nervous giggle slip from her mouth. She nodded and grabbed him by the forearm.

“Here, I’m gonna go grab my purse,” she said, “Come with me and meet Piper.”

Phoebe and Max approached the table. Max looked at Piper, who was sitting in a cardigan. Her hair was clipped back and she looked too put together for him. She looked like a mother, not the chick Phoebe had mentioned.

“Max, this is Piper,” Phoebe said as she shouldered her crossbody.

Piper looked up from her drink and gave him a half smile.

“This is your sister?” he clarified. He turned to Phoebe.

“That’s her.”

“She’s cute,” Max said in a rather condescending tone that was made quite clear by his face. “But she’s homely-looking.”

Phoebe popped a candy into her mouth.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Max said, placing his empty glass on the table in front of Piper. “Wanna get out of here?”

Phoebe looked at Piper, who was once again staring at the table.

“Oh, uh, I mean, Piper’s here and-”

“She won’t know,” Max said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t leave her-”

“She’s grown, she’ll figure it out.”

Phoebe sighed. Piper would always be her sister, no matter what. And no matter what, Piper could never stay mad at her for long. She hated the idea of shutting people out, so there was absolutely no way that Phoebe could ever be subject to a shutout.

“Hey, um, Piper, I think I’m gonna go with Max,” she started, obviously nervously. “I’ll be back tonight or tomorrow morning, just tell Prue I’m gonna be fine.”

Piper nodded softly and looked at Max’s empty beer glass.

* * *

Prue furrowed her brows as she squinted at the sight. She clutched her phone and pressed it tightly against her ear. Andy's voice trailed off in conversation, but she wasn't listening anymore.

Phoebe and Max stumbled out of the bar together. They barely made it out before Max pushed Phoebe up against the brick wall and the pair began making out.

Prue’s eyes widened at the sight. She watched the exit intently for Piper, but to no avail. She held her phone more closely.

“Hey, Andy,” she said, “I’m gonna call you later-”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll call you later.”

Prue threw her phone onto the passenger seat and swung open her car door. She stormed across the dark parking lot. The sound of her heels hitting the pavement became louder and louder as they approached Phoebe and Max.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Prue,” Phoebe said in surprise.

She pushed Max off of her and spun him around to meet Prue’s threatening eyes.

“Max, this is Prue.”

Max looked Prue up and down and smiled.

“Glad to meet you,” he said, turning to Phoebe. “I didn’t know you had two sisters-”

“Yeah, where’s Piper?” Prue demanded.

“Inside,” Phoebe mumbled, wrapping her arms around Max’s neck. “She’s fine.”

Prue glared at the pair and stormed past them, into the bar. She caught sight of Piper, sitting alone in the booth they’d shared. She was quietly sipping away at her vodka while bobbing her head to the music.

“Piper,” Prue exclaimed, “Get up, we’re going home.”

Piper looked up and furrowed her brows. She looked down at her watch and back up.

“It’s not even midnight,” she mumbled, “I’m not done my drink yet.”

“You like to sleep before ten, missy,” Prue snapped, pulling Piper’s glass from her.

“Where’s Phoebe?”

“Outside, hooking up with some guy she’s just met. She left you alone.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Piper said, waving off Prue’s concerns with her hand.

“It’s not okay,” Prue responded, putting Piper’s coat around her. “We agreed to never leave each other alone.”

Piper put her arm through her coat sleeves and shrugged.

“You left.”

“I sat in the car,” Prue clarified, “I wasn’t going to leave you for a second. And then...and then I see Phoebe come out with some douche and you’re nowhere to be found-”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m all good-”

“ _What_ did you drink?” Prue asked as she shouldered Piper’s crossbody.

“Vodka,” Piper said.

“Oh, thanks, Tips,” Prue mumbled, “Let’s go. I need to go and pay for all this.”

“I’ve got money,” Piper said.

“The tab’s under my card.”

“We let regular customers…” Piper trailed off as Prue dragged her through the bar.

“I know you let regular customers keep a running tab,” Prue said pointedly as they reached the bar.

Piper held on to Prue while she got the bartender’s attention. She looked around at the men who stood around, downing shots and yelling over whose dart came closest to bullseye.

“Halliwell,” Prue told the bartender. She turned back to Piper.

“Honey, stand up,” she said, “You are not that drunk.”

Piper laughed and fell into Prue’s side. Prue pocketed her ID and credit card and held onto Piper’s shoulders as she guided her out of the bar.

“Phoebe!” Piper exclaimed.

“Phoebe, you’re coming with us,” Prue said sharply, grabbing her hand. She squeezed Piper’s left hand tightly.

Max stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned to Prue.

“She’s coming home with me tonight,” he said.

“Wow,” Prue scoffed, “Phoebe, you’ve just met this guy-”

“I’m an adult,” Phoebe snapped as she shook Prue’s hand away.

Prue sighed.

“You’ve got my number,” she mumbled.

She walked with Piper to her car and buckled her in. Piper was more out of it than usual. She wondered if her drink had been spiked, but she’d been sitting with her all night, and she had been sipping her third vodka for ages.

“That was fun,” Piper said, resting her head against the window. The cool glass felt wonderful on her flushed cheeks.

“What’s up with you?” Prue asked as she started her car.

Piper shrugged and looked down at her hands.

“Piper, you start therapy tomorrow,” Prue began, “And I know that’s scary, but it’s not a reason to get drunk the night before-”

“I’m not drunk,” Piper said. Her voice went small. “Just numb.”

“I see,” Prue said as she turned out of the parking lot. “You talk a lot when you’re...numb.”

“‘Cause I can’t feel anything,” Piper said, “I’m all numb.”

Prue kept her eyes on the road. Her hands gripped the wheel, even though she desperately wished they were holding her sister’s. Piper had always been a certain way; really emotional about everything, not afraid of crying. And over the years, Prue began to notice the little things, like, more stress-cooking, more stress-cleaning, more nights crying in her bedroom, more recipes that called for a few drops of wine, yet somehow the whole bottle would be finished by morning.

“Piper, look,” Prue said, “You’ve got, like, a lot going on in that head of yours, and I know you’re gonna talk to someone, but I wanna know what’s happening.”

“I dunno,” Piper mumbled, “I just don’t wanna feel pain anymore.”

“You were doing fine until Phoebe came home,” Prue said sharply, “She’s been back for two weeks and suddenly, you’ve got therapy tomorrow and-”

“Phoebe isn’t the reason,” Piper snapped, “Phoebe’s the one who told me to go-”

“I’m not blaming her, I’m just saying that you’ve gotten worse-”

“I haven’t gotten worse, I’ve just started telling you things.”

Prue stared blankly ahead. They were sitting at a red light and there were no cars around. Prue turned on her windshield wipers; anything to break the newfound silence. She drove forward slowly, focusing on the road. Piper kept her head against the window.

“Can you at least tell me why you’ve been drinking more? ‘Cause I know you’ve been drinking alone-”

“No you don’t. I don’t drink alone-”

“You do,” Prue said softly, “And, normally, I wouldn’t judge you. I sometimes enjoy a glass of wine alone. But you get drunk alone.”

Piper scoffed.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know, 14 maybe? 13 even?”

“How would you even know that?”

“Piper, I’m not stupid. I heard every bit of Mom and Dad’s divorce, thought even for a moment there that Mom was having another kid…” she rambled as she turned onto their street.

“She what?”

“Point is, I’ve been around long enough and heard enough, and I’m not an idiot. I know the first time you got drunk was-”

“Duran Duran in 1989-”

“The kitchen in 1987.”

“I was 16-”

“You were 14 and it was the night I graduated from high school-”

“How would you even know that?”

Prue scoffed as she turned onto the driveway. She put the car in park and the pair sat together.

“You vomited the entire next day.”

“I had a migraine-”

“You don’t vomit with your migraines, remember?”

Piper rolled her eyes.

“I’ve had migraines since I was eight,” she said, “I can’t vomit now? What the hell are you on about?”

“Oh, so you’ve had migraines for, what, 17 years now, and you only vomited the one time? Right, Piper, of course.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m an alcoholic or something?” Piper’s voice was clear now, more demanding.

Prue grabbed her coat and purse and opened the car door.

“I’m telling you that this was fine when you were a functional human being,” she said, “But not anymore. Not when the smallest thing sends you spiralling-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Piper, you’ve been getting drunk on your own since you were at least 14. Grams had no clue, and neither did Phoebe. And I never asked you about it because you always made it to work on time, always cooked a great meal-”

“Yeah, exactly, I’m fine!”

Both women slammed the car doors and walked up the steps to the house. Prue took her keys out while Piper stood by the door.

“Piper, you’re gonna go to therapy tomorrow and you’re gonna let all of this out, just like you did to me tonight, and you’re gonna get help.”

“Which is why I don’t pay you $165 each time you lecture me.”

Prue unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly.

“Alright, you need to go to bed and get some sleep, ‘cause I’m not fighting with you right now.”

“Why not? You’re good at it-”

“Stop-”

“Why? Are you waiting for Phoebe to get home so you can fight with her?”

“I have my own reservations about Phoebe,” Prue said, slamming the door behind them.

“Well, add me to that list because I’m obviously not who you thought I was.”

“No, Piper, I’ve known you your whole life and you’re exactly who I thought you were. And I never stopped loving you, never stopped rooting for you.”

“Then why do you keep trying to fight with me? You told me you’d never-”

Prue sighed and took Piper’s hands.

“I never had to fight with you,” she said calmly, “Because I was never worried about you. But now I am.”

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry-”

“There is,” Prue said firmly, “And tomorrow, you’re gonna start getting better. But right now, you need to get some sleep or you’ll have an even worse headache in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, please let me know, and if there are any storylines / things from the show that were brought up but then forgotten about that you wanna see, tell me !!! Best wishes, I love you all and thank you for reading xx


	8. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper starts therapy. Prue goes for a job interview. Phoebe invites her new date, Max, over for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm sorry this took forever to get out !! anyway it's here and it's good ! a huge huge huge thank you to pastagoose for helping me write this chapter. i literally couldn't have done it without her. so thank you for helping me weave these ideas into this wonderful story ... i hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @holyhalliwells and pastagoose @piperhaliwels :)

“Piper!” Phoebe said, waving her arms from across the road.

Piper held onto the railing as she made her way down to the parking lot. She squinted at her sister, who was running across the street.

“Phoebe? What are you doing here?”

Phoebe put her hands on her knees and gasped for air. She then looked up and smiled softly.

“I’m...I came to take you home.”

“In...what? Are you gonna fly me home?”

Phoebe looped her arm through Piper’s and the pair walked into the parking lot.

“No, silly,” she said, “I took a bus. It’s not fair for you to have to drive home after therapy.”

“Oh, but, everyone does it-”

“You’re not everyone, you’ve got me today.”

They reached Piper’s car. Piper handed Phoebe the keys and sighed as she went to the passenger side.

“You know,” Phoebe started adjusting the mirrors, “I have always, always, always wanted to drive a Jeep-”

Piper stifled a laugh as she pulled her seatbelt over her chest.

“And we’re gonna be careful, careful, careful about my Jeep.”

Phoebe gripped the wheel and turned back as she reversed.

“Oh, yeah, sure!”

They exited the parking lot. It didn’t take long for Phoebe to turn to Piper and ask exactly what Piper had been dreading.

“So, first day of therapy...how’d it go?”

“It was fine,” Piper said, “I’m $165 down, well,  _ we _ are, but-”

“Honey, I’m just glad you’re finally getting help. I’m glad some of the weight’s been lifted off your shoulders.”

“Yeah, well, some of the weight’s also been lifted from my wallet.”

Phoebe pouted and turned to Piper as they approached a red light.

“You can’t beat yourself up about this. We both know it’s gonna be fine, okay? Whatever it costs-”

“But it’s not fair to you and Prue, I mean, I took a day off of work to make this appointment and I’ve lost a day’s pay, and you don’t work and Prue’s just quit her job. How are we supposed to afford everything when I’m sad all the time?”

“Oh, Piper-”

“Don’t oh Piper me, I’m serious. Look, you know, I’m really bad at dealing with things, alright? Or so I’ve been told. And...and I’m only going to this therapy thing because you and Prue want me to.”

“But you can’t look at it like that,” Phoebe said softly, “You can’t keep doing things for other people. You’re the only one sitting in that chair, Piper. This is your thing, and nobody can take that away from you.”

Piper sighed and looked down at her hands. The skin around her nails was disturbed from all the mindless picking and biting. She stuffed them in her pockets.

“I know,” she mumbled, looking out the window. “I just hope Prue gets this job today.”

* * *

Phoebe sat at the counter, placing asparagus into a dish. Piper stood across from her, buttering a pan.

“Are you and Prue still alright with me having Max over?” she asked, looking across the counter.

“Mmm-hmm,” Piper mumbled, turning the pan as she worked the butter into it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you know, with everything earlier-”

“With therapy? It’s fine, I’m fine. Why?”

“I just kinda figured you’d want the night to yourself. We can still go out if-”

Piper sighed and put her pan down.

“Pheebs, I’m buttering a pan. I’m gonna cook us a really nice dinner, an even better dessert, and we’re all gonna have a really nice night.”

Phoebe and Piper looked up at each other as they heard the sound of the front door opening. Piper’s eyebrows were raised: she looked hopeful. Perhaps Prue would come in with the news that she’d gotten the job. Perhaps she’d be as ecstatic as she was when she left for the interview.

“I’m home!” Prue called.

“In the kitchen!” Phoebe and Piper called back.

Prue walked in with her briefcase and handbag. She placed them on the counter and pulled up a stool beside Phoebe.

“How was the interview?” Piper asked as she placed a few pinching bowls on the counter.

Prue shrugged. Phoebe took her stare from Piper’s assortment of prep bowls to Prue’s face. She could tell by her look that things didn’t go as planned.

“Oh, that’s not important. But I do know that someone started therapy today…”

Piper looked down and worked at meticulously measuring flour with a measuring spoon.

“Piper?”

Phoebe whacked her hand against Prue’s arm, and when Prue looked up at her, Phoebe’s eyes went wide and she shook her head.

“Whatcha makin’?”

“A soufflé,” Piper responded mindlessly as she cracked an egg. “I’m trying something new. I’m thinking I’ll use lemon juice instead of cream of tartar. I might get some better height.”

“Whatever you please, Betty Crocker,” Prue said, “Now, about today. Everything went okay?” She noticed Phoebe shaking her head out of the corner of her eye but continued to wait for a response from Piper. She wanted to know. 

“Peachy. What about your job interview? You were so excited about it earlier.”

Prue’s eyes met Phoebe’s. She sighed and placed her hands on the counter, face-down.

“I didn’t get it.”

Piper finally looked up from her food and furrowed her brows. She wiped her hands off on her apron and blew her bangs out of her face.

“What?” Phoebe said.

“Prue-” Piper started softly.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, it’s not alright. They didn’t deserve you, anyway.”

Phoebe walked over to the sink and leaned on it, arms crossed over her chest.

“I just don’t get it. What’s not to love? You’re great at photography, you’ve been doing it for years and-”

“I don’t have the formal experience, nor do I have the number of hours they want. I’d be working longer hours than I am now and I wanna be home before dinner’s on the table.”

“I can start dinner later,” Piper offered, beginning to stir flour in her pan. “It’s no problem at all.”

“Then what now?” Phoebe asked, “What are you gonna do?”

“I have an interview tomorrow morning at someplace called  _ Juxtapoz _ .”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the job, Prue,” Piper said quietly, “I’m sorry this is so stressful on you. I’ve got my next session covered, so if you need to take more time to find a job, you can.”

Prue walked around the counter to Piper and frowned as she pushed her bangs back.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, you know that, honey? Look, that job sounded like my dream job, and I was right - it was too good to be true. But tomorrow might be different.”

“I hope you’re right, Prue,” said Phoebe as she moved from her place next to the sink to where Piper and Prue stood. She grabbed a piece of the shaved parmesan cheese and tossed it into her mouth.

“Uh, so we should get ready for uh, Max. He’ll be here at 7 and I’m gonna finish up the soufflé and get it ready for the oven,” Piper said, batting Phoebe’s hand away. “Careful or there won’t be any left for the dish.”

“I will go and get ready,” Prue said before placing a kiss on the side of Piper’s head. “That food smells delicious, Birdie.”

Piper grinned at Prue as she watched her walk away. Birdie. It was a nickname given to Piper by her boss. Her boss was this tall, gorgeous, silver-haired woman with a booming laugh and a lust for life. Piper was convinced she started every day with a smile.

* * *

_ “Come on, Birdie,” Francine called out. _

_ Piper followed Francine into the cold storage, wiping her tears as fast as she could. Her face was red. There was no hiding this. _

_ “You are my only female chef,” Francine said calmly, placing both of her hands on Piper’s shoulders. “Being a woman in this industry is like walking into a fire and expecting not to burn. But you do anyway, alright? And all you can do is cool off. That’s all. Demand respect.” _

_ Piper looked down and sighed. _

_ “But, if I do that, they’ll disrespect me even more. It’s easier not to.” _

_ “Listen, I know you’ve gone your whole life letting people walk all over you. Believe me, I know. I was you. I didn’t know what ‘no’ meant. But I learned. And you can, too.” _

_ Piper wiped her tears away with her hands. Francine offered her clean apron. Piper swallowed thickly and looked around the cold storage. _

_ “I don’t want to hate cooking,” she admitted in a small voice. “It’s all I have.” _

_ “I thought theatre was all I had, but I went to school for cooking. And what were you before, a banker?” _

_ Piper nodded. _

_ “It was to pay the bills. I was good at math. I thought I’d be good at banking, but then my Grams died and now I’m doing this for her. I don’t want to disappoint her. Not again.” _

_ “You’re a smart girl,” Francine said, “You could never disappoint her. Or me. You are here because I hired you, and I hired you because you were outstanding. I know there’s a song in that soul of yours, Birdie. Sing it out loud for me. This is your show. Your stage. Come on.” _

_ Piper slowly but surely pulled herself together. She wiped the last of her tears away and breathed deeply. She placed her hands on her hips and stood in silence for a brief moment. Francine watched her in awe. She moved to the door and turned back to see Piper taking her breaths. _

_ “Whenever you’re ready, go get back out there, Birdie,” she said softly. _

* * *

Phoebe and Prue worked at setting the table as Piper dished dinner into her vintage Pyrex dishes. Piper had chosen a gorgeous terracotta table cloth along with her sage green Pyrex set. She had Phoebe choose the music for the evening, and Prue had cleaned up beforehand. The evening would be absolutely perfect.

It was not long before Max showed up. He and Phoebe sat in the parlour for a few moments while Piper finished preparing her soufflé and Prue carried dishes out to the dining room.

“So which of them does the cooking?” Max asked, placing a finger under Phoebe’s chin.

Phoebe smiled softly at him before turning back to the direction of the dining room.

“Piper, the one you met last night. She’s in the kitchen. But that’s Prue helping set everything up.”

Max nodded and looked around the parlour, eyeing the various antiques and old photos.

“Reminds me of my grandmother’s house,” he commented.

“Uh, yeah, that would be because this was our grandmother’s house,” Phoebe began, “But she passed away just over a year ago now.”

“I’m sorry. Were you close?”

“Well, she raised us. But, no, I mean, Piper was. She’s still shaken up and-”

Prue peeked from around the doorway and offered a warm smile to Max.

“Hi, uh, dinner’s almost ready and I figured we’d all say hi before sitting down.”

Phoebe led Max into the dining room. Piper came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of freshly-shaved parmesan cheese.

“Max, hi,” she said with a smile. She offered him her hand. He shook it harshly without looking at her. Piper pulled her hand back and looked at Phoebe.

“Pippy? Pip?” he asked.

Piper waved his mistake off with her hand and fixed up some of the plates on the table.

“Piper,” Prue said, offering her hand to Max. “And I’m Prue.”

“So, here’s my take on spaghetti al limone with asparagus. The spaghetti was made from scratch earlier, the asparagus is farm-fresh as usual, and the basil leaves were picked this afternoon. There’s extra lemon if you need it,” she gestured to the lemon slices. “And there’s extra parmesan. The soufflé is in the oven. Enjoy.”

Piper took a breath and smiled as she sat down.

“There’s our chef,” Prue said, giving Piper a warm smile.

“Max, what do you do for work?” Piper asked.

Max worked at dishing his food up.

“I’m an accountant,” he said.

“An accountant with his master’s degree,” Phoebe added, raising her eyebrows. “He’s so smart.”

“You know what they say,” Max said, “Opposites attract!”

Prue raised her eyebrows as she took some pasta from the dish.

“Uh,” Piper said, fiddling with her silverware. “Um, anyway, who are you with?”

“Uh, I started with Hood & Strong in July. It’s good so far. What about you?” He turned to Prue.

“I was with San Francisco Mutual-”

“Prue,” Max interjected.

“Me?” Prue asked. She exchanged looks with Piper.

“I’m asking you.”

“I’m...sort of...in between things right now,” she started, “I worked in a museum for a while. I’m switching it up, I think. The goal is to do photography.”

Max nodded and poured water into his glass.

“What do you shoot?”   
“Uh, mostly arts and culture-type stuff. I did a series of candids in Golden Gate Park last month, you know, showcasing people just strolling through the park, enjoying their Sunday. Things I feel we won’t have in the future.”

“ _ Won’t _ have in the future?”

“Well, the digital age is here, Max, and we’re gonna forget what it’s like to walk hand-in-hand in Golden Gate Park. I’d say give it a few years, but in the next 20 years, don’t be surprised if that park is full of robots taking their robot dogs for walks.”

Phoebe laughed and twisted her fork into the spaghetti.

“Prue, 20 years isn’t that long. I doubt you’d see an actual robot-”

“You’d be surprised at how far artificial intelligence has come,” Piper remarked, “But, yeah, Prue, no robots. Not before the government sorts itself out and we see changes being made.”

“Change certainly has to be made, right, Max?” said Prue. “Equal opportunities for both men and women, equal pay-”

“Prue,” Piper said softly, “Uh, um, would you mind passing me that water jug, please?”

Prue passed Piper the water jug and shifted her focus back to Max.

Phoebe and Piper exchanged looks. Phoebe could see that Piper was bothered by the direction of the conversation.

“Hey, Piper, didn’t you take an elective in AI in college?” she quipped.

Piper opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“In cooking school?” Max interjected.

“Piper was a banker,” Prue said sharply, locking eyes with Max.

Piper sat back in her chair, looking to Phoebe for something, anything. But Phoebe was still staring at Max with big eyes and she looked so happy.

Max laughed softly to himself and sat back.

“And here I thought she was a spinster.”

“A  _ woman _ with a math degree,” Prue said harshly.

“Prue-”

“No. Look, Piper, I think maybe you should check on that soufflé now.” Her voice was sharp and angry, yet somewhat gentle and caring at the same time.

Piper placed her napkin onto the table, gave Max a gentle grin, and left the room.

“What was that about?” Phoebe asked, putting one of her hands on the back of Max’s chair.

“Piper’s intelligent,” Prue said, “She was always the smartest.”

“It’s true,” Phoebe added, “Always got the highest grades. Her scholarship to San Francisco State was huge.”

“Why San Francisco State when she had the grades for Stanford?”

Prue sighed and twirled some spaghetti around her fork. She glared at Max. She had figured out his angle by now. He, for some reason, did not like Piper. He thought Phoebe was dumb but good in bed. And Prue didn’t know what he thought of her. But one thing was for certain - he did not respect any of them. And here they were, hosting a dinner party for him, not even 24 hours after meeting him. But that’s the person Piper was.

“She wanted to be closeby for Grams,” Phoebe said, picking up her water glass. “Piper’s never liked going too far away. But that’s okay. She’s a chef now, so-”

The kitchen door swung open and Piper walked out, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I really need new shoes,” she said to herself, looking down. “My feet are killing me.”

“Don’t take any of mine,” Phoebe said lightly, bringing her glass to her mouth.

“You’re two sizes bigger than me,” Piper said, furrowing her brows. “These size five feet fit in my size five shoes only.”

She took her seat and picked up her fork.

“Do you know why they say women have smaller feet?” Max said, a grin appearing on his face.

“Oh, let me guess,” Prue said, “Because men are more powerful, can run faster, can-”

“Prue,” Piper said softly, resting her hand on Prue’s forearm.

“Why are women’s feet smaller?” Phoebe asked.

She looked up at him with a big smile, clearly in love with his features.

“So they can stand closer to the sink,” Max said.

Piper let out a nervous laugh and poured some water into her glass.

“I’ve never heard that one,” she said, “Just when I thought I’d heard all the small feet jokes. Phoebe’s told me jokes her whole life.”

Phoebe nodded proudly.

“I’m just glad you don’t steal clothes from my closet because you’d look a hundred times better in anything than I would.”

Piper shrugged and put her napkin over her thighs.

“Your clothes are actually two sizes too small for me, Pheebs,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

She looked down at her half-full plate and picked at a lemon strip.

“The best chefs are always a bit heavier,” Max said, “And this food is delicious.”

“Thank you,” Piper said, a wave of panic beginning to appear on her face.

She dropped her fork and sat back.

“Hey, Piper, I think we should check on that soufflé,” Prue said, grabbing Piper’s forearm as she stood up.

“I just checked on it, it still needs some ti-”

“Kitchen.”

Piper and Prue walked into the kitchen. Prue closed the door behind them and grabbed Piper by the shoulders.

“He is a chauvinist,” she said sharply, “And he’s after you. He’s been after you all evening.”

“That’s not true,” Piper responded.

She shook her head. She wrapped her arms across her stomach. Her two-piece playsuit suddenly felt too tight. Or had it always been too tight?

“It is. He doesn’t respect any of us, Piper. But you...listen to what he’s saying to you-”

“He’s Phoebe’s date-”

“That doesn’t make him a nice person,” Prue hissed, “Not one you can trust, anyway.”

Piper sighed and leaned against the sink. Suddenly, every inch of her felt two inches wider. Nothing fit the way it was supposed to. Her hair was out of place, her bangs weren’t straight, her legs were too short, her boobs were too small, her style was too ugly,  _ she  _ was too ugly.

“I watched your face the entire time, Piper, and I could see the look on your face. I know you.”

Piper scowled and stared straight ahead. Prue inched closer to her, putting her arm out slowly. Piper pushed it away.

“I should check the soufflé,” Piper mumbled. She reached for her oven mitt, _Grams’s oven mitt_ , she reminded herself. Pulling the soufflé from the oven she gave a small smile. The lemon juice had helped with the height, so far anyway. 

After plating the individual ramekins onto a serving platter, she moved past Prue, not bothering to excuse herself on her way back to the dining room to serve the soufflé. Prue could see that Piper was clearly insecure all of a sudden. She was reminded of something she’d almost forgotten about. And she knew her sister was about to go out into the dining room and pretend that nothing had just happened because that’s what she always did, it was the only way she could survive. 

Piper plastered her smile back on her face as she rounded the corner.

“Here are the lemon soufflés. I’d mentioned to Phoebe and Prue earlier that I was going to use lemon juice instead of cream of tartar and it seems to have worked well.”

“If it worked before, why mess with it? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Max said with a shrug.

Piper gave a tight smile in response as Phoebe cut in, “Piper likes to play with recipes, she’s written a few of her own from scratch, too.”

Hoping that the conversation would end there, Piper dished out the soufflé. Placing one each in front of Phoebe, Max and Prue. She wasn’t going to bother with acknowledging Prue’s return, whenever that was, and sat back in her seat and began picking at the food that was left on her plate with her fork. 

Phoebe raised an eyebrow in Piper’s direction.

“Aren’t you going to have one, Piper? You always try your dishes.”

“I’m pretty full, that’s all. I ate while I was cooking, remember?” Piper said.

Phoebe gave her a shrug in response and began eating what was in front of her. 

When Prue returned, she immediately noticed the lack of soufflé in front of Piper. She knew that as much as Piper tried to play it off as if Max’s words meant nothing, her actions spoke louder than she’d ever realize, they always had.

“Did you already finish your soufflé, Piper?” She asked. Her eyebrows were furrowed. It was as though she were making a joke.

“Ah, no. No, I’m not too hungry, I snacked quite a bit while I was cooking. I’ll have one tomorrow.”

Prue gave a non-committal nod in response. Something wasn’t quite right, she knew that Piper preferred her soufflé fresh, as it was intended to be served fresh, anyway. She picked up her spoon and stared at the soufflé before sticking her spoon into it. The outer layer was as delicious as it was crispy, and the inside was as heavenly on the tongue as it was fluffy.

“This is so good,” Prue said, covering her mouth with one hand. “The lemon bit works really well. You did good, Bird.”

“Thanks,” Piper said quietly, offering a soft smile. She stared at her plate, keeping her hands in her lap.

“Yeah, Piper, this is really good. God, I could eat these all day,” Phoebe added, mouth half-full.

Piper smiled again before returning her eyes to her plate. She could feel the lump in her throat begin to get bigger, more demanding, more painful. Her lips were dry, her eyes were stinging, and her heart felt heavy. She took a deep breath, trying to forget that there was a conversation happening at the table — trying to forget that there was a conversation happening in her head, too. And right now, she wasn’t certain which one was worse.


	9. Cold Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe says goodbye to Max as Prue and Piper say hello to new problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! here's a new chapter. i hope you enjoy it, it's more piper-centric, but next chapter will be more focused on prue and phoebe for those of you who want to read more about them as well !! enjoy :)
> 
> i'm on tumblr as @holyhalliwells ... feel free to stop by!

Phoebe clutched Max’s coat and leaned against the wall beside the front door. She studied him, his features, his gorgeous face. Those stunning green eyes. His sharp jawline. Everything. She, Phoebe Halliwell, had scored not only a hot guy, but an educated one. One who had a big job in San Francisco, working as some top-notch accountant with a fancy company only Piper knew the name of. But here he was. With her. Only her.

He kissed her passionately. It was brief. He’d tipped her a little, making her giggle like a little girl. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. 

Prue was standing by the dining room table, polishing the wood. She’d look up at them every so often, working out what Max’s deal was. Because she certainly wasn’t placing a bet on him. And she figured Piper wasn’t either.

“Hey, I forgot my soufflé,” Max said. He tilted Phoebe’s chin up once more and kissed her.

“I’ll be here,” Phoebe said emphatically. She held up his coat. “I’ll hold this.”

Max walked through the house, through the dining room. He walked past Prue, who walked over to meet Phoebe in the front hall. Max stood in the doorway of the kitchen. It was dark. Piper stood on her tiptoes by the oven as she worked at putting her Pyrex dishes away. She was reaching up high, evidently not able to extend far enough to put the dish away.

“Hey, I forgot the soufflé,” he said softly, causing Piper to gasp.

“I’m sorry,” Piper said, spinning around quickly.

She turned back to the cabinet. She reached up once more, able to grab a small plastic box.

“You know, a woman like you shouldn’t wear such a shirt like that.”

Piper swallowed thickly and placed the box on the countertop. She slowly turned around and looked towards the doorway. Max stood like a man she’d seen in her dreams once upon a time — a man who had been tormenting her in her sleep since she was 12.

“A woman like me?”

“A prude,” Max continued as he stepped into the kitchen.

Piper held onto the counter behind her. Her eyes grew slightly wider as Max seemed to inch towards her.

“A prude like you...wearing a shirt like that? All that skin and for who?”

Piper looked down to see that the top piece of her two-piece jumpsuit had ridden up her belly when she had been reaching up at the cupboards. She pulled it down instantly, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. The floor seemed to sway below her.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“I’m just here for the soufflé, that’s all.”

Piper held the top of her jumpsuit down as she moved over to the fridge. She opened it, pulled out a ramekin and brought it over to the plastic box she’d placed on the counter. She put it inside and then pulled out a small square of paper and a pen from the utility drawer and began scribbling things on it.

Max watched her.

After a few moments, Piper looked up, but not at him. She stuck the paper to the box and held it out for Max to take.

“Here you go. I figured I’d include the re-heating instructions, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

Max left the kitchen, leaving Piper leaning against the counter. She had only just started to collect her thoughts when she heard the distant chatter and laughter from the front hall. Phoebe, Prue, and Max were laughing. Phoebe and Max, mostly. Prue was saying her goodbyes.

Piper felt the familiar feeling. Everything felt like it was coming back up. Every word Max had said to her.  _ A woman like her. A prude. Her skin. Her belly. Her.  _ She stood over the sink, taking in deep breaths.

“Piper?”

She spun around quickly, blinking through the mist that had started to collect in her eyes.

“Hi.”

“I’m just...you know, about to head to bed. The dining room’s all clear. Max and Phoebe are talking on the porch.”

Prue inched closer into the kitchen.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Piper responded.

She sniffled and returned to her position over the sink.

“You’ve not been yourself since dinner,” Prue pushed, “Was it Max? He was a bit abrasive-”

“No, he was a great guest. I just...uh, you know, with the therapy thing earlier…” Piper trailed off as she ran her hands under the sink.

“I don’t wanna push you any further than you need to be pushed,” Prue said, “So, if you wanna talk and get some of that out, my bedroom door is open.”

Piper gave a tight-lipped smile to Prue.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Alright, then,” Prue said, walking over to Piper.

She placed a kiss to the side of her head and smiled at her.

“Dinner was really nice tonight, you know that? You did a great job.”

“Thank you,” responded Piper.

She looked down, which told Prue that she should leave and let Piper come to her. But whatever this was about, she wasn’t so sure that Piper would go to anyone.

“Goodnight,” Prue said softly.

“I love you.”

“Yeah.”

Prue walked out of the kitchen as Phoebe walked into the house. She reached the bottom of the stairs before Phoebe stopped her.

“Why were you so quick to send Max home?” Phoebe asked, putting a hand on the bottom post of the staircase.

“He’s a chauvinist, Phoebe,” was all Prue could say. She started to go upstairs.

“A chauvinist? Really, Prue? He’s a nice guy. He’s educated, he’s gorgeous, and, you know what, Prue? He likes me. A lot. Is that it?”

Prue scoffed, turning her body halfway back to Phoebe.

“Did you not hear a single thing he said to any of us tonight? The way he shook our hands? The way he dismissed Piper’s every word... the...the women in the kitchen jokes, the small feet jokes _ — _ ”

“You can’t think he’s being serious,” Phoebe exclaimed, “This is someone who I’ve only started seeing. Can’t you give him a chance?”

Prue rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs.

“Phoebe, I’ve given many of your guys chances over the years, and all they’ve been are sex-obsessed, creepy, and apparently now chauvinistic fools.”

“Can’t be happy for anyone but yourself and Piper, can you?”

“Grow up. I have an interview in the morning. I’m going to bed.”

Prue held onto the bannister as she made her way upstairs. Phoebe stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the old photographs. She wondered if Grams and Mom could hear the words exchanged between her and Prue. She always wondered who would have gotten in the most trouble had they heard the sort of things Prue had to say.

Phoebe spun on her heel and walked into the dining room. She grabbed the polish and the rag from the table and walked into the kitchen, straight over to the sink. She put the polish in the cupboard under the sink and spun around, her hand flying to her chest before she made it all the way around.

“Piper?!”

Piper sat in the darkness, on the blue diner stool, to the right of the entryway. In front of her sat four ramekins of soufflé  _ — _ one empty, one half-eaten, and two full ones.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Piper mumbled, her mouth half-full.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Phoebe lowered her voice.

She approached Piper, who had evidently been downing as much of her soufflé as she could. She put the two full ramekins on the counter and pushed the empty one aside.

“I asked what you were doing in here.”

“What does it look like?”

“I know you’re eating, but what is this for? Why didn’t you just have one at dinner? Two, even?”

Piper looked down at the half-eaten ramekin. She felt horribly. She wanted to eat it so badly. And she’d never had a problem eating in front of anyone before. But she’s wearing these awfully revealing clothes now and she wouldn’t want anyone to see her eating and putting on all this weight.

“I wasn’t hungry then.”

“Half an hour ago?”

Piper nodded.

Phoebe placed both the empty and half-full ramekins on the counter and pulled up a red diner stool to the side table that Piper was sitting at.

“Is this about Max?”

“It’s-”

“Prue doesn’t like him either.”

Phoebe’s voice was soft. She looked and sounded defeated. If it wasn’t enough that Prue had been calling her out for dating him, seeing Piper silently beat herself up was the last straw.

“It’s...not that _ — _ ”

“Say it, because Prue doesn’t like him either, and you’re sitting in here just...I’ve never seen you like this before. Why didn’t you eat the soufflé at dinner?”

Piper sighed and angrily smashed her spoon against the side table.

“Because I felt fat,” she snapped. Her voice went to a whisper. “I  _ feel _ fat.”

Phoebe’s face fell. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Her eyes made their way down Piper’s chest, to the top of her stomach.

“Honey, you’re not fat,” Phoebe said, putting her hand on Piper’s shoulder. “You’re not fat at all. What makes you...oh, did Max _ — _ ”

“No,” Piper said, “He didn’t. I took it all wrong. It’s...it’s nothing, really. I just...I was hungry and-”

Phoebe sighed and looked down at the spoon.

“So you were hungry earlier, but you didn’t eat,” she said, “Is that it? What did Max say to you? Is this why Prue hates him, too? What did he say to you guys to make you both hate him so much?”

Piper shook her head and picked up the spoon. She picked at the top of it.

“I don’t hate him. I don’t know why Prue would hate him _ — _ ”

“Oh, Piper, you’re too nice to say anything. What did he do to make you sit in here like this?”

Piper gave Phoebe a tight-lipped smile and slid off of the stool. 

“He did nothing. I promise.”

She grabbed the empty ramekin and placed it in the sink, and then she placed the three remaining ramekins into the box in the fridge.

“He must've done something _ — _ ”

“He did nothing,” Piper mumbled as she passed Phoebe on her way out of the kitchen.

* * *

Prue held onto the bannister loosely as she made her way downstairs. She walked carefully - these were new heels. She was bound to make a solid impression at  _ Juxtapoz _ . Once she got to the bottom of the stairs, she pulled her skirt down a little and pressed down the creases with her hands.

She walked into the dining room to find a go-cup of coffee had been left out, along with a still-steaming plate of pancakes and eggs. A note sat to the left of the plate.

> _ Good morning! Here’s some breakfast and coffee. Don’t worry about coming in to see me. I’ll see you when you get back. Good luck today, but I don’t think you’ll need it. I’m thinking of you. Love, Piper. _

Prue smiled at the note and placed her messenger bag on the table. She picked up the plate and the go-cup and walked into the sunroom. Piper was sitting in a blanket at the iron dining set.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Prue said as she beamed.

“You’re in a good mood,” Piper said as she looked up from her book.

Prue took a seat across from her.

“I just have a really good feeling about today.”

“That’s good! You’re gonna be just fine today, you know that?”

Piper folded the corner of her page and pulled her blanket around her. She popped a hand out of her blanket, reaching for the green mug in front of her.

“Thanks. We didn’t really catch each other before bed last night. You didn’t go up too late, did you?”

Piper shook her head as she brought her mug to her mouth.

“I was asleep by 9:30,” she said, “A little late, but we had a guest, so _ — _ ”

“Yeah, about that _ — _ ”

“Prue _ — _ ”

“Piper, honey, if Max said some things to you that _ — _ ”

Piper laughed nervously and put her mug on the table. She shook her head softly and opened her book. That familiar feeling crept back into her stomach, the one she’d had the night before as she stood over the sink.

“Everything’s fine.”

Prue went to say something, but no words left her mouth. She looked down at her coffee instead and sighed.

“You know, if you wanna talk to me _ — _ ”

“Door’s always open. I got it.”

Prue started to eat her breakfast. Piper went back to reading. The two would look up at each other every so often, softly smile like they knew the same secret or heard the same song, and then they’d look down again.

* * *

“The dishes back there need washing.”

Piper furrowed her brows and looked over her shoulder. Behind her stood a tall man in chef whites. She looked up at him, pushing her bangs out of the way with the back of her hand.

“Uh, um, I’m a little busy up here at the moment-”

“Don’t make me embarrass my boys by making them do dishes,” the man said. His voice was patronizing.

Piper bit her tongue. She breathed out softly and turned back to her station.

“I’m busy,” she said in a hushed tone.

Not again. She wouldn’t walk to the back, past all the line cooks, all the way to the back to wash dishes. That just wasn’t right. She was the sous-chef. She wasn’t exempt from “dirty work”, but she knew when to say ‘no’. She’d forgotten how to say it many times before. Today, that would stop.

“Do you talk to your husband that way?”

Piper stared ahead. The word ‘husband’ made her feel a certain way. She’d never be worthy of one, no, but the thought of one was exquisite. She thought of Jeremy, thought that through for a minute. But couldn’t think that far. He seemed to want more than she could offer. But he never seemed to want more time with her, more taste tests in the kitchen, more mornings reading. He wanted more skin, more tongue, more body, more her. But not her. She was always limited that way. But, if Jeremy were her husband, would she talk to him that way? In what way, did he mean?

As if by a miracle, Francine walked into the kitchen with a smile plastered on her face.

“Birdie, there’s a full house out there,” she said, coming around the pass. “How’s everything on this end?”

“Busy,” Piper responded with a soft smile.

“Tom, you should be on the line,” Francine said, sternly, “It’s far too busy out there for us all to be standing around.”

Piper swallowed thickly. A wave of relief washed over her as she looked up at Francine.

“You’re doing an excellent job, you know.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m happy to take over for you if you need a little break. You look a bit tired.”

Piper wiped her hands off on her apron and began to untie it from the back. She nodded and stepped away from her station.

“Thank you,” she said, “Really.”

“Five minutes…” Francine’s voice trailed off as Piper walked out.

She rushed off into the dry storage room, a place that had become a sanctuary. She’d learned where everything was through these moments of reflection. She held onto the pole of one of the racks and let her tears fall freely. The world continued on around her, but right now, she needed to stop. A thousand thoughts seemed to rush through her head, strangling her by every means. Why did everybody seem to hate her so much? Why was she a sous-chef in a nice restaurant and still being treated like this?

“Am I only here because they thought a woman would look good for demographics?” she wondered aloud. It was a quiet question, but it needed asking.

“Would I feel better if I had said yes to doing the dishes?”

“Am I not cut out for this?”

She paced the room now, hands on her hips. She didn’t bother to look at the clock. Time didn’t matter anymore. If she could freeze it and stop for a moment and cry as long as she wanted, she’d be living in a dream. But dreams don’t happen for Piper. They never have. They never will.

“Who asks, ‘Do you talk to your husband like that?’ to someone? Is that a real question? Was I supposed to answer that?”

“If I quit, will I be happier? No, I can’t quit. I can’t afford to be sad. I really can’t afford to be sad. Oh, but, Piper, why are you sad? Oh, I don’t know. My mom’s dead, my dad’s who knows where, and the one person in this world who taught me everything is gone, too, and I have nobody left—”

“When you’re done crying, Fran wants you back in the kitchen,” came a man’s cold voice from the doorway.

The man was older, looked tired, and grabbed a box of rice from the shelf by the door.

Piper looked up and caught sight of his back as he left.

“Oh, maybe if I cry less, I’d get some respect around here. But I wouldn’t be crying if they respected me at all— “

Footsteps approached the room. Piper spun on her heel, hands still on her hips, and stared ahead. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and took a breath. A younger man, perhaps around Piper’s age, stepped into the storage room cautiously.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“No,” Piper said quietly, “I was, uh, finishing up in here, actually.”

“It’s a tough job, you know,” the man said, “I get it. I used to come in here and cry. But, you know, you can’t do that ‘cause it makes people think less of you.”

Piper nodded and swallowed. She looked around the room, her eyes finally meeting the clock. Her five minutes had certainly been up. She walked towards the doorway.

“If you need me to tell the boys to speed things up once in a while, you let me know, okay?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I will,” Piper said, her expression softening.

She began to search his face for a name.

“Neil,” he said, “And you?”

“Piper.”

“Piper, it’s nice to meet you. You run a tight ship. Not an easy job.”

Piper gave a tight smile and brushed past Neil, wiping her face off once more. She decided to hold her head up as she walked into the kitchen. Not every single person here was out to get her. Francine wasn’t, and neither was Neil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter !! if there's anything you'd like me to touch on, don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask on my tumblr (@holyhalliwells) !!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if there are any scenes, in particular, you'd like me to attempt, please don't hesitate in letting me know. ♡


End file.
